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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 
LORD  RIDDELL 


[Photo  by  Underwood  dt  Underwood 


I.OK!)    Knil'I   I.t. 


SOME  THINGS 
THAT   MATTER 


BY 

LORD   RIDDELL 


'Knowledge  is  power." 

LORD    BACON 


NEW  XSflr    YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,    1922, 
BY    GEORGE    H.    DORAN    COMPANY 


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SOME   THINGS   THAT   MATTER.        I 
PRINTED   IN   THE    UNITED   STATES   OF   AMERICA 


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PREFACE 

It  has  been  suggested  that  I  should  reproduce 
in  more  permanent  form  a  series  of  articles  which 

s*  I  wrote  in  John  o'  London's  Weekly.  Hence  this 
book.    The  later  chapters  were  written  in  order  to 

9  give  effect  to  a  suggestion  made  by  Lord  Morley 
when  speaking  at  Manchester  about  fifty  years  ago, 
that  the  best  way  to  learn  to  reason  would  be  to 
study  the  methods  adopted  in  the  Law  Courts.  In 
these  chapters,  therefore,  I  have  attempted  to 
describe  in  popular  terms  the  laws  of  evidence  and, 
in  addition,  briefly  to  outline  the  laws  of  thought. 

The  Author 
March,  1922. 

c 

C 
o 
GO 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAOB 

I     How  to  Concentrate     .......  11 

II     How  to  Observe .  25 

III  How  to  Read 39 

IV  The  Art  of  Public  Speaking 55 

V     Maxims    for    Speakers 71 

VI     The  Use  of  the  Dictionary 85 

VII     The  Fly- Wheel  of  Civilization:  Importance 

of  Habit 93 

VIII     How  to  Think 103 

IX     How  to  Judge  Things 113 

X     Circumstantial  Evidence 123 

XI     Facts  and   Inferences 135 

XII     Hearsay  and  What  is  Relevant   ....  147 

XIII  How  to  Find  Things  Out 155 

XIV  The  Laws  of  Thought 165 

XV     Legal  Maxims 179 

XVI     The  Moral  Duty  of  Belief     .     ..:     •>     .     ,..  191 


I:  HOW  TO  CONCENTRATE 


SOME  THINGS 
THAT   MATTER 


HOW  TO  CONCENTRATE 

Concentration  is  the  secret  of  success. 
— Ralph  Waldo  Emerson. 

Observation,  concentration,  and  memory  are 
closely  allied.    Interest  is  the  basis  of  all  three. 

If  I  were  to  show  you  a  letter,  stating  that  some 
one  had  left  you  twenty  thousand  pounds,  or  that 
your  dearest  friend  had  died,  or  that  your  best 
girl  had  married  another,  in  a  flash  you  would  ab- 
sorb the  information,  and  in  after  years  the  details 
of  the  incident  would  remain  stamped  upon  your 
mind.  You  would  remember  not  only  what  the 
letter  said,  but  what  I  said,  what  you  said,  and 
where  the  interview  took  place.  The  reason  is  ob- 
vious. The  communication  would  relate  to  a  sub- 
ject of  vital  interest. 

To  put  the  matter  in  another  way,  the  brain  is 
like  a  photographic  plate.  If  there  is  a  suitable 
light,  it  vividly  records.    If  the  light  is  dim  or  from 

[ii] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

the  wrong  angle,  the  result  is  an  imperfect  picture. 
The  inquirer  will  very  likely  say,  "Life  does  not 
consist  of  receiving  letters  of  the  kind  indicated. 
Dramatic  incidents  are  few  and  far  between  in  the 
lives  of  most  of  us.  What  is  the  use  of  trying  to 
base  your  conduct  on  deductions  drawn  from  such 
rare  occurrences?  What  I  want  to  know  is  how 
to  learn  to  concentrate  on  the  ordinary  affairs  of 
life.    Can  the  art  of  concentration  be  acquired?" 

As  they  say  in  the  House  of  Commons,  the  an- 
swer is  in  the  affirmative.  Given  a  certain  amount 
of  discipline  and  repetition,  the  art  of  concentration 
for  a  particular  object  can  undoubtedly  be  ac- 
quired. Most  Britons  are  slow  to  absorb  but  ten- 
acious of  holding  what  they  get.  I  am  not  re- 
ferring to  money,  but  to  ideas.  Take  an  example. 
A  young  man  enters  a  merchant's  office;  a  typical 
young  Englishman — I  will  say  nothing  about  the 
Scottish  and  Welsh,  who  require  a  different  classi- 
fication. tjThe  Scotsman  is  a  born  observer  and  logi- 
cian—the outcome  of  generations  of  theological 
controversy.  The  Welshman  has  imagination  and 
the  advantage  of  village  life  to  bring  out  the  best 
that  is  in  him  for  certain  purposes.  At  root  the 
Welsh  are  a  nation  of  poets,  tempered  with  the 
shop-keeping  instinct. 

Let  us  come  back  to  the  English — the  backbone 

of  the  British  race — the  nation  that  has  thrown  up 

as  many  geniuses  as  perhaps  any  other  race  in  the 

world,  not  excepting  the  Greeks,  the  Romans,  and 

[12] 


HOW  TO  CONCENTRATE 

the  French.  Let  us  take  the  typical  English  boy 
who  goes  into  a  merchant's  office — not  very  well 
educated,  with  little  general  information,  and  with 
his  mind  chiefly  directed  to  game.  Watch  him  be- 
ing put  through  the  mill,  and  see  him  again  twenty 
years  hence.  You  will  find  him  a  shrewd,  keen  man 
of  business,  with  a  profound  knowledge  of  his  call- 
ing, but  probably  with  little  accurate  knowledge 
about  anything  else,  and  full  of  all  sorts  of  odd 
prejudices — an  observant  man  where  his  own  busi- 
ness is  concerned.  If  he  is  in  the  woollen  trade  he 
knows  at  once  the  value  of  the  suit  you  are  wearing; 
he  knows  where  the  cloth  came  from  and  what  it 
is  made  of.  But  note:  it  is  easier  to  learn  to  con- 
centrate automatically — a  slow  process — like  the 
young  man  in  the  office,  than  to  flog  yourself  into 
concentrating  on  a  particular  subject.  But  this 
can  be  done  by  perseverance  and  taking  trouble. 

Most  of  us  can  concentrate  easily  on  a  definite 
mechanical  action — the  shifting  of  a  piece  of  furni- 
ture, for  example — or  upon  some  definite  task,  such 
as  writing  a  letter  or  learning  a  piece  of  verse.  The 
difficulty  arises  when  we  have  to  concentrate  upon 
things  which  produce  no  immediate  and  definite  re- 
sult, such  as  reading  a  book  or  a  complicated  docu- 
ment. We  may  think  we  understand  it.  We  may 
believe  that  the  task  has  been  well  done.  There 
is  nothing  to  show  that  we  have  not  been  concen- 
trating and  that  we  have  imperfectly  absorbed  the 

contents. 

[13] 


J 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

On  a  larger  scale,  take  the  ease  of  two  profes- 
sional men.  One  has  the  power  of  concentration 
in  a  more  marked  degree  than  the  other.  One  suc- 
ceeds and  the  other  fails.  The  failure  does  not 
perceive  that  he  is  missing  his  mark  owing  to  defi- 
cient concentration.  The  successful  man  wears  the 
other  down  because  day  in  and  day  out  he  does  his 
work  just  a  shade  better  than  the  other.  No  great 
success  can  be  achieved  without  concentration  of 
two  kinds — first,  concentration  on  the  main  pro- 
ject, and,  second,  concentration  on  its  details.  All 
the  great  people  of  the  world,  in  politics,  commerce, 
or  professional  work,  make  everything  subordinate 
to  the  main  purposes  of  their  lives,  and  when  they 
are  at  work  display  extraordinary  powers  of  con- 
centration. J 

The  success  of  some  men  bewilders  those  around 
them  because  they  never  seem  to  work,  or  to  work 
for  any  length  of  time.  Their  secret  is  their  power 
to  concentrate,  and  thus  to  obtain  the  maximum  of 
result  with  the  minimum  of  apparent  effort.  "Con- 
centration," says  Emerson,  "is  the  secret  of  suc- 
cess in  politics,  in  war,  in  trade,  in  short  in  all  the 
management  of  human  affairs." 

Take  the  lawyer  in  large  practice.  He  works 
like  a  galley-slave,  and  allows  nothing  to  interfere 
with  the  performance  of  his  duties.  He  is  up  early 
and  late,  rarely  dines  out,  and  sees  but  little  of  his 
family.  He  flies  from  one  Law  Court  to  another 
and  from  one  class  of  case  to  another.    Every  night 


HOW  TO  CONCENTRATE 

he  has  to  read  perhaps  half  a  dozen  briefs,  each  deal- 
ing with  a  different  subject.  But  he  has  learnt  to 
concentrate  because  concentration  is  essential  to 
the  conduct  of  his  work.  For  the  time  being  his 
mind  is  absolutely  bent  on  the  case  in  hand. 

The  habit  of  concentration  grows.  That  is  one 
advantage  of  education.  The  well-educated  man 
is  taught  to  concentrate  when  he  is  young.  He  is 
taught  to  assimilate  uninteresting  subjects.  The 
less  educated  learn  to  concentrate,  so  to  speak,  by 
rule  of  thumb.  .  Eventually  concentration  in  any 
particular  direction  becomes  automatic.  That  won- 
derful friend,  the  sub-conscious  mind,  begins  to 
work.  When  you  tie  up  your  shoe-laces  apparently 
you  are  not  paying  much  attention  to  the  opera- 
tion, but  in  fact  you  are.  You  are  concentrating 
unconsciously.  The  same  things  applies  to  a  law- 
yer cross-examining  a  witness.  He  does  not  have 
to  say  to  himself,  "Now,  pay  attention !  Take  care 
what  you  are  doing  or  you  may  make  a  horrible 
blunder!"  Subconsciously  he  brings  all  his  guns 
to  bear,  and  makes  his  mind  work  as  hard  as  it 
can  in  order  to  extract — or  obscure — the  truth. 

As  William  James  says  in  his  interesting  little 
book,  "Talks  to  Teachers  on  Psychology": — 

"The  great  end  of  all  education  is  to  make  our 
nervous  system  our  ally  instead  of  our  enemy.  For 
this  we  must  make  automatic  and  habitual,  as  early 
as  possible,  as  many  useful  actions  as  we  can,  and 

[15] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

as  carefully  guard  against  the  growing  into  ways 
that  are  likely  to  be  disadvantageous." 

Concentration  is  a  habit  of  mind.  Men  are  not 
born  equal  in  their  power  of  concentration  any 
more  than  in  their  power  of  playing  billiards.  But 
up  to  a  point  every  one  can  improve  his  powers  in 
every  direction.  This  is  an  age  of  specialists.  Re- 
member that  concentration  is  necessary  not  only 
to  do  things,  but  to  select  what  to  do.  In  these 
days  no  one  can  achieve  great  distinction  unless 
he  concentrates  on  some  one  thing.  Wisely  Sidney 
Smith  said:  "Have  the  courage  to  be  ignorant 
of  a  great  number  of  things,  in  order  to  avoid  the 
calamity  of  being  ignorant  of  everything,"  while 
Browning  teaches,  with  even  more  truth,  "Who 
keeps  one  end  in  view  makes  all  things  serve."  Con- 
centration, indeed,  is  the  great  liberator.  It  yields 
large  dividends  of  leisure.  Hazlitt,  in  his  admir- 
able essay  "On  Application  to  Study,"  says:  "It 
is  wonderful  how  much  is  done  in  a  short  space, 
provided  we  set  about  it  properly,  and  give  our 
minds  wholly  to  it.  Let  any  one  devote  himself  to 
any  art  or  science  ever  so  strenuously  and  he  will 
still  have  leisure  to  make  considerable  progress  in 
half  a  dozen  other  acquirements."  He  goes  on  to 
show  how  this  explains  the  versatility,  or  rather  the 
multi-capacity,  of  men  like  Leonardo  da  Vinci  and 
Michael  Angelo.  If  you  want  to  make  your  work 
easy,  take  an  interest  in  it.  Extend  your  interests, 
but  do  not  extend  them  too  far.  It  is  wonderful 
[16] 


HOW  TO  CONCENTRATE 

how  interest  grows  by  patient  continuous  applica- 
tion. When  interest  is  aroused,  concentration  fol- 
lows. 

Some  time  ago  I  knew  a  man  who  had  never  in 
his  life  been  to  sea.  By  chance  he  drifted  into  the 
chambers  of  an  Admiralty  lawyer  and  began  to  look 
through  his  briefs.  He  had  no  interest  in  the  sub- 
ject, and  knew  nothing  about  naval  terms.  But 
gradually  he  became  interested.  He  began  to  con- 
centrate, and  ultimately  ended  up  as  one  of  the  great- 
est Admiralty  lawyers  of  his  day  with  an  enormous 
practice.  I  said  to  one  of  the  highest  authorities  in 
the  world  on  a  highly  technical  scientific  subject, 
"How  did  you  become  so  famous?  When  you  were 
young  were  you  fond  of  this  sort  of  thing?"  "No," 
he  said,  "but  I  had  a  scientific  bent  and  I  had  to 
earn  my  living.  I  tumbled  into  this  subject.  It 
was  very  trying  at  first,  but  I  came  to  like  it,  and 
the  more  I  liked  it  the  better  I  did  it.  .  You  can- 
not really  concentrate  on  anything  unles  you  are 
interested  in  it.?  Now  I  do  it  for  pleasure.  It 
comes  easy.  It  is  always  in  my  mind,  more  or 
less."  In  short,  practice  is  the  best  of  all  instruc- 
tors. 

There  are  all  sorts  of  mechanical  devices  for 
stimulating  concentration.  It  is  not  my  purpose  to 
endeavour  to  describe  these.  For  example,  certain 
games  of  patience  are  supposed  to  be  effective  stim- 
ulants. I  have  never  tried  any  of  these  schemes.  If 
I  was  not  interested  in  what  I  had  to  do,  I  tried  to 

[17] 


SOME  THINGS    THAT  MATTER 

become  interested  in  it.  \Most  pursuits  have  in  them 
the  elements  of  a  game  if  you  only  look  for  them. 
The  illuminating  word  often  shows  the  way.  Most 
students  find  law  or  hook-keeping,  for  example, 
dull  subjects.  But  if  they  are  lucky  enough  to 
meet  some  one  who  describes  in  an  interesting  and 
dramatic  fashion  the  principles  involved,  and  what 
all  these  more  or  less  dull  details  are  intended  to 
lead  up  to,  or  rather  the  principles  which  govern 
them,  the  subject  assumes  a  vivid  interest.  If  you 
were  to  see  the  pieces  of  a  jig-saw  puzzle  lying  to- 
gether in  a  heap,  they  would  have  no  interest  for 
you.  But  if  you  were  told  that  depicted  on  the 
pieces  were  the  parts  of  a  picture  which  you  could 
make  up,  then  each  piece  would  have  for  you  an  ac- 
tual interest,  and  you  would  be  keen  to  put  them 
together.  It  is  the  same  with  law  or  book-keeping. 
Because  concentration  depends  on  interest  it  is 
important  to  find  the  key  that  will  make  a  subject 
interesting.  When  I  was  younger  I  had  for  busi- 
ness purposes  to  summarise  Acts  of  Parliament  and 
other  complicated  documents.  At  first  I  found  this 
heavy  work,  but  when  I  had  attained  the  necessary 
degree  of  concentration  the  task  became  a  pleasure. 
I  used  to  time  myself  in  order  to  see  how  quickly 
I  could  read  and  summarise  a  page.  Nowadays, 
if  I  have  a  spare  half-hour,  I  often  do  this  for 
amusement.  It  is  interesting  to  take  one  of  the 
Law  Reports  in  The  Times  and  to  see  how  quickly 
and  briefly  you  can  set  forth  the  facts  and  the  rea- 
[18] 


HOW  TO  CONCENTRATE 

sons  for  the  decision.  If  you  bend  all  your  mind 
to  the  task,  and  if  you  are  interested  in  it,  you  will 
find  that  you  can  produce  a  really  good  bit  of  work 
in  a  very  short  time.  But  you  will  not  do  this 
unless  you  are  interested  in  what  you  are  doing. 
Many  successful  people  tell  you  that  they  hate  their 
jobs,  and  are  always  anxious  to  quit  them.  Yet 
in  order  to  succeed  they  have  by  dint  of  persever- 
ance gained  the  art  of  concentration  on  their  work. 
But  note :  they  would  work  more  easily  if  they  were 
interested  in  what  they  were  doing. 
«--  A  lack  of  concentration  is  due  to  inattention. 
[That  every  one  concentrates  if  he  is  compelled  to 
do  so,  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  danger  is  a  great  in- 
centive to  concentration.  "  The  merchant  who  re- 
ceives a  message  calling  for  an  urgent  answer  con- 
centrates on  his  reply  because  he  knows  that  if  he 
neglects  to  do  so  he  will  be  a  heavy  loser.  The 
motor-car  driver  concentrates  on  his  task  because 
he  knows  that  if  he  does  not  do  so  he  will  be  killed. 
The  soldier  concentrates  on  his  drill  because  he 
knows  that  if  he  does  not  he  will  make  mistakes 
and  be  punished.  You  are  more  liable  to  stray 
when  walking  on  a  wide  road  than  when  walking  on 
the  edge  of  a  precipice.  The  difficulty  is  to  con- 
centrate voluntarily  and  to  acquire  the  concentra- 
tion habit  of  mind. 

But  bear  in  mind  that  the  powers  of  concentra- 
tion are  injured  by  undue  attention  to  self.  Ex- 
cessive vanity  or  self-pity  prevents  the  mind  from 

[19] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

applying  itself  to  its  task.  Emotions  of  ambition, 
self-regard,  and  anxiety  will,  of  course,  play  their 
part;  but,  as  William  James  points  out,  they  should 
be  confined  as  far  as  possible  to  the  occasions  when 
you  are  making  your  general  resolutions  and  de- 
ciding on  your  plan  of  campaign.  Their  intrusion 
into  the  details  of  our  lives  prevents  us  from  con- 
centrating on  the  immediate  object  in  view. 
To  quote  Burns: 

"If  self  the  wavering  balance   shake 
It's  rarely   right  adjusted." 

In  conclusion:  one  of  the  simplest  methods  to 
strengthen  concentration  is  to  work  out  arithmetical 
sums  or  mathematical  propositions.  Quite  simple 
ones  will  serve  the  purpose.  The  addition  of  a 
column  of  figures  demands  concentrated  effort  by- 
most  people,  but  when  the  task  becomes  automatic 
it  ceases  to  serve  the  purpose.  Another  and  more 
generally  useful  method  is  to  read  a  paragraph  in 
a  scientific  book,  such  as  Darwin's  "Origin  of 
Species,"  and  then  to  attempt  to  reproduce  the 
contents  in  writing — not  verbatim  but  in  your  own 
words.  When  you  find  that  you  can  do  this  success- 
fully you  can  try  to  reproduce  the  contents  of  a 
page  and  later  on  a  chapter.  But  a  task  of  this 
sort  cannot  be  performed  satisfactorily  unless  the 
result  of  your  work  is  checked  by  some  one  upon 
whose  judgment  you  can  rely.  Otherwise  you 
may  not  perceive  that  you  have  misunderstood  the 
[20] 


HOW  TO  CONCENTRATE 

author's  meaning  or  overlooked  an  important  fact 
or  argument. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  concentration  is  an 
exhausting  mental  and  physical  business  for  those 
who  are  unaccustomed  to  it.  Therefore,  to  begin 
with,  the  strain  should  not  be  too  prolonged. 
Attention  should  be  relaxed  for  a  suitable  period. 
In  other  words  the  habit  should  be  gradually 
formed.  Brisk  vigorous  concentration  for  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  on  the  first  day  may  be  gradually 
expanded  into  two  hours  or  more  at  the  end  of  a 
month.  The  essence  of  concentration  is  that  the 
full  powers  of  the  mind  should  be  centred  on  the 
task  in  hand.  \A  tired  mind  and  body  cannot 
accomplish  this  to  the  best  advantage,  and  in  the 
case  of  children  and  young  persons  harm  may  result 
from  too  prolonged  efforts. N 


V 


[21] 


II:     HOW  TO  OBSERVE 


^  » 

LI        WajA 


II 

HOW  TO  OBSERVE 

Appearances  to  the  mind  are  of  four  kinds.  Things 
either  are  what  they  appear  to  be  or  they  neither 
are,  nor  appear  to  be;  or  they  are,  and  do  not 
appear  to  be,  or  they  are  not  and  yet  appear  to  be. 
Rightly  to  aim  in  all  these  cases  is  the  wise  man's 
task.  — Epictetus 

The  maxim  is  "Pay  attention!"  Or,  in  common 
parlance,  "Keep  your  eyes  open!" 

Attention  is  a  habit  of  mind.  You  can  force 
yourself  to  pay  attention  and  observe,  but  if  you 
wish  to  become  an  effective,  consistent  observer  you 
must  cultivate  the  observing  habit  of  mind. 

Most  people  are  unobservant  except  in  regard  to 
matters  in  which  they  are  keenly  interested.  A  girl 
clerk,  without  effort  and  without  conscious  cere- 
bration, as  it  is  called,  will  tell  you  exactly  what 
clothes  were  worn  by  other  women  whom  she  met 
at  a  social  function,  but  the  same  girl  will  fail  to 
notice  important  matters  affecting  her  daily  work. 
Not  because  she  does  not  wish  to  do  her  duty. 
The  reason  is  that  her  mind  is  more  alert  where  it  is 
interested  than  where  it  is  not. 
\J?he  truth  is  that  most  people  are  bad  observers. 

[25] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

The  other  evening  twelve  men,  distinguished  in 
various  walks  of  life,  were  present  at  a  dinner.  A 
diseussion  arose  regarding  observation.  One  of  the 
party  produced  two  "Fishers"  from  his  pocket  and 
folded  back  the  lower  part  of  each  note,  also  the 
sides,  so  as  to  leave  exposed  only  the  following 
words:  "Currency  Notes  are  legal  tender  for  the 
payment  of  any  amount."  He  handed  the  notes 
round,  and  asked  each  of  those  present  to  say  which 
was  the  ten-shilling  note  and  which  the  pound  note. 
Not  a  single  member  of  the  party  guessed  right. 
Knowing  that  ten-shilling  notes  were  green,  all 
assumed  that  the  words  printed  in  green  colour 
belonged  to  the  ten-shilling  note.  In  fact,  these 
words  are  printed  in  brown  on  the  ten-shilling  note 
and  in  green  on  the  one-pound  note.  He  then 
handed  round  a  packet  of  Wills's  "Gold  Flake" 
cigarettes,  and,  pointing  to  the  side  of  the  packet 
which  bears  the  facsimile  signature  of  the  makers, 
he  said,  "Tell  me  how  many  'h's'  there  are."  Of  the 
twelve  diners,  only  one — a  naval  officer — discovered 
that  there  were  two.  Every  one  else  answered 
"One."  The  second  "h"  is  in  the  word  "the."  It  is 
quite  easy  to  see  when  it  is  pointed  out.  Houdin, 
the  great  French  conjurer,  trained  himself  to  ob- 
serve by  special  exercises.  He  would  walk  past 
a  shop  window  and,  without  stopping,  notice  and 
memorise  as  many  of  the  objects  displayed  in  it  as 
he  could;  then  he  wrote  down  a  list  of  them.  At 
first  his  lists  were  short,  and  his  walking-pace  had 
[26] 


HOW  TO  OBSERVE 

to  be  slow.  But  by  assiduous  practice  he  was  able 
in  one  quick  glance  to  notice  and  afterwards  record 
an  incredible  number  of  things,  and  the  faculty  of 
swift  observation  thus  acquired  was  half  the  secret 
of  his  success  as  a  magician. 

Take  one  more  test.  Can  you  accurately  write 
down  the  colour  of  the  eyes  of  any  dozen  people 
you  know?  You  will  find  it  a  difficult  task.  A 
written  record  is  a  wonderful  test  of  observation. 
If  you  want  to  observe  accurately,  write  down 
what  you  see,  in  the  same  way  as  students  are  re- 
quired to  record  the  result  of  their  observations. 
Take  some  simple  article.  Examine  it  closely,  and 
as  you  examine  it  write  a  detailed  description  of  it 
— such  a  description  as  would  enable  the  article  to 
be  identified  or  reproduced.  The  pen  is  a  wonder- 
ful aid  to  the  eye.  If  you  examine  and  describe  an 
article  in  this  fashion,  you  will  be  surprised  at  what 
you  discover. 

A  visit  to  the  Law  Courts  will  show  how  wit- 
nesses differ  when  describing  an  incident.  Most  of 
them  do  not  wish  to  tell  untruths.  They  are  quite 
honest  in  what  they  say.  No  doubt  some  of  them 
are  influenced  by  prejudice.  They  think  they  saw 
what  supports  the  side  of  the  case  in  which  they  are 
interested.  But  most  of  them  are  bad  observers. 
This  is  not  peculiar,  to  witnesses.  By  way  of  a  test, 
a  professor  arranged  that  during  one  of  his  lectures 
a  man  should  rush  into  the  room,  turn  round  three 
times,  and  rush  out  again.    Of  course,  the  students 

[27] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

were  taken  by  surprise.  There  were  forty  present 
— only  five  gave  the  correct  colour  of  the  man's 
clothes.    All  the  others  were  hopelessly  wrong. 

During  the  coal  stoppage,  a  meeting  took  place 
at  the  House  of  Commons  at  which  a  number  of 
persons  were  present.  Later  a  question  arose  on 
what  one  of  them  had  said.  Six  of  those  in  attend- 
ance gave  their  impressions.  They  all  disagreed, 
and  the  speaker  himself  gave  a  different  version 
altogether.  Some  persons  have  the  knack  of  cor- 
rectly describing  a  scene;  others  what  is  said;  and 
others  the  contents  of  a  document.  I  know  a  man 
who  can  be  relied  upon  to  state  accurately  what  a 
letter,  memorandum,  or  Act  of  Parliament  con- 
tains. But  he  invariably  gives  an  inaccurate  ac- 
count of  a  conversation.  He  is  perceptive  through 
the  eye — not  through  the  ear. 

Hearing  is  as  important  to  observation  as  sight. 
Some  people  have  more  acute  hearing  than  others. 
But  hearing  can  be  developed  in  the  same  way  as 
observation  through  the  eye.  Here  again  the 
maxim  is,  "Pay  attention!  Keep  your  ears  open!" 
Many  persons  with  indifferent  sight  are  wonderful 
observers,  and  see  more  than  others  with  full  sight. 
They  see  because  they  look.  Two  men  may  each 
have  a  telescope — the  one  double  the  power  of  the 
other.  The  man  with  the  higher  power  instrument 
sees  nothing  because  he  does  not  use  it.  The  man 
with  the  lower  power  instrument  sees  much,  be- 
cause he  uses  what  he  has. 
[28] 


HOW  TO  OBSERVE 

The  Rev.  Francis  Bashforth,  the  chief  authority 
on  ballistics — that  is,  the  laws  governing  the  action 
of  projectiles — is  a  good  example.  His  experi- 
ments, carried  out  between  1864  and  1870  with 
comparatively  clumsy  apparatus,  were  so  accurate 
that  modern-day  scientists  with  perfect  instruments 
have  been  able  to  improve  upon  them  only  very 
slightly.  He  had  a  genius  for  observation  and 
calculation. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  seeing  and  hearing,  the 
man  with  good  sight  and  hearing  has,  of  course,  an 
advantage  over  the  man  with  poor  sight  and  hear- 
ing. The  former  can  readily  see  or  hear  what  the 
other  can  discover  only  with  difficulty,  or  perhaps 
not  see  or  hear  at  all.  But  observation  is  not  only  a 
matter  of  sight  and  hearing.  It  depends  upon  the 
desire  to  see  and  hear  and  upon  knowledge  and 
imagination — knowledge  which  tells  the  observer 
what  to  look  for,  and  imagination  which  suggests 
possibilities  for  investigation. 

It  is  a  mistake,  moreover,  to  suppose  that  you 
can  safely  pass  from  observation  to  the  drawing 
of  conclusions  without  a  good  deal  of  intermediary 
thought.  Goethe,  in  one  of  his  "Maxims  and  Re- 
flections," points  out  that  this  was  a  fault  of  the 
Greeks.  "What  wonderful  eyes  the  Greeks  had 
for  many  things !  Only  they  committed  the  mistake 
of  being  overhasty,  of  passing  straightway  from 
the  phenomenon  to  the  explanation  of  it,  and 
thereby  produced  certain  theories  that  are  quite 

[29] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

inadequate.  But  this  is  the  mistake  of  all  times, 
and  still  made  in  our  own  day."  It  was  the  mistake 
made  by  "the  elderly  gentleman  of  scientific  attain- 
ments" at  Clifton,  who  mistook  the  flashes  and 
guiding  lights  of  Mr.  Pickwick's  dark  lantern  on 
his  window  for  "some  extraordinary  and  wonderful 
phenomenon  of  nature,  which  no  philosopher  had 
ever  seen  before."  He  was  not  wanting  in  mere 
observation;  he  made  notes.  A  few  minutes  later 
he  mistook  Sam  Weller's  clenched  fist  on  his  nose 
for  an  allied  phenomenon,  and  in  the  end  he  pro- 
duced a  demonstration  that  all  these  effects  were 
the  effects  of  electricity,  "which  demonstration 
delighted  all  the  Scientific  Associations  beyond 
measure,  and  caused  him  to  be  considered  a  light 
of  science  ever  afterwards." 

The  advantages  of  good  sight  and  hearing  must 
not,  however,  be  underestimated.  Many  children 
do  not  observe  because  they  cannot  see  or  hear  as 
well  as  they  should.  While  in  Westminster  Abbey 
the  other  day  a  friend  of  mine  pointed  out  a 
medallion  in  the  distance  to  his  small  son.  The 
little  boy  could  not  see  it.  My  friend  discovered 
for  the  first  time  that  his  child  was  short-sighted. 
A  pair  of  spectacles  changed  the  boy's  outlook  on 
life. 

Predilections  and  prejudices  are  fatal  to  sound 
observation.  Inquiries  conducted  by  people  with 
strong  views  are  usually  unsatisfactory.  For  ex- 
ample, two  women  are  appointed  to  inquire  into 
[30] 


HOW  TO  OBSERVE 

the  state  of  the  drink  traffic  in  a  certain  district — 
Mrs.  A.,  a  "pussyfoot,"  with  an  ardent  desire  to 
interfere  with  other  people's  habits;  and  Mrs.  B.,  a 
believer  in  moderate  drinking  and  a  strong  advo- 
cate of  individual  freedom.  Mrs.  A.  reports  that 
the  inhabitants  are  being  ruined  by  drink,  and  that 
nothing  short  of  complete  prohibition  can  save  the 
district.  Mrs.  B.  reports  that  there  is  very  little 
drunkenness  and  that  all  is  for  the  best  in  the  best 
of  all  possible  worlds.  Both  parties  are  quite  hon- 
est, but  neither  description  is  accurate.  Usually 
scientific  investigators  are  not  prone  to  let  their 
personal  views  interfere  with  their  judgment.  But 
sometimes  a  scientist  is  so  convinced  that  his  pet 
theory  is  right  that  he  marshals  facts  in  such  a  way 
as  to  give  it  the  maximum  amount  of  support.  He 
attaches  no  importance  to  what  does  not  suit  him, 
and  magnifies  the  importance  of  what  does.  Obser- 
vation can  be  influenced  even  by  others,  and  the 
observer  be  made  to  see  what  he  is  to  told  to  see. 
Shakespeare  has  a  famous  example  of  this  in 
"Hamlet." 

Hamlet.    Do  you  see  yonder  cloud  that's  almost  in  shape  of 
a  camel? 

Polonius.     By  the  mass,  and  'tis  a  camel,  indeed. 
Hamlet.     Methinks  it  is  like  a  weasel. 
Polonius.     It  is  backed  like  a  weasel. 
Hamlet.     Or  like  a  whale? 
Polonius.     Very  like  a  whale. 

Children  are  sometimes  taught  to  observe  by 
requiring  them  to  describe  a  number  of  articles 

[31] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

placed  on  a  tray.  After  the  observers  have  been 
looking  for  so  many  minutes  the  tray  is  covered 
with  a  cloth  and  they  are  called  upon  to  describe 
the  objects.  Sometimes  the  articles  are  exhibited 
only  for  a  few  seconds,  and  after  the  cloth  has  been 
placed  on  the  tray  the  children  are  asked  to  say  how 
many  there  were.  Rudyard  Kipling  gives  a 
graphic  account  of  this  game  in  "Kim." 

The  object  of  education  is  to  train  the  mind. 
The  same  applies  to  these  games.  In  themselves 
they  have  no  value.  Their  only  merit  is  to  train 
the  mind  to  observe  things  that  matter. 

Remember  that  in  observation,  as  in  other  things, 
you  must  consider  the  object  you  have  in  view.  If 
you  want  to  describe  a  landscape  you  must  not  pay 
too  much  attention  to  worm  casts.  You  want  to 
look  at  the  great  vistas.  On  the  other  hand,  if  you 
are  going  to  purchase  a  field  for  agricultural  pur- 
poses, you  must  pay  close  attention  to  the  character 
of  the  soil.  So  it  is  in  other  matters.  You  must 
observe  what  is  important.  That,  too,  is  a  question 
of  observation — the  art  of  picking  out  the  thing 
that  matters.  The  power  to  supply  the  need  is  a 
different  quality.  Those  who  are  able  to  see  what 
is  required,  and  who  are  able  to  supply  the  want 
are  sure  of  success.  But  the  power  of  observation 
is  half  the  battle. 

Don't  try  to  observe  too  much.  All  observation 
is  useful,  but  no  man  can  observe  everything.  You 
must  decide  upon  what  is  most  valuable  for  your 
[32] 


HOW  TO  OBSERVE 

purpose.  As  one  of  the  ancients  remarked,  "The 
half  is  often  better  than  the  whole" — a  saying  well 
worth  reflecting  upon.  In  Herbert  Spencer's  ex- 
cellent little  book  on  education  he  says:  "The 
question  is  not  whether  such  and  such  knowledge  is 
of  worth,  but  what  is  its  relative  worth?  Any  one 
who  should  learn  the  distances  between  all  the 
towns  in  England  might  in  the  course  of  his  life 
find  one  or  two  of  the  thousand  facts  he  had 
acquired  of  some  slight  service  when  arranging  a 
journey.  But  every  one  would  admit  that  there 
was  no  proportion  between  the  required  labour  and 
the  probable  benefit."     To  quote  the  old  song: 

Could  a  man  be  secure 

That  his  days  would  endure 

As  of  old,,  for  a  thousand  long  years, 

What  things  might  he  know ! 

What  deeds  might  he  do ! 

And  all  without  hurry  or  care. 

But  we  that  have  but  span-long  lives  must  ever 
bear  in  mind  our  limited  opportunities.  It  is  use- 
less to  disregard  the  hard  fact  that  the  world  can- 
not exist  without  work,  and  that  efficiency  is  essen- 
tial to  human  success.^ 

On  the  other  hand,  one  has  to  confess  that  there 
is  a  certain  pleasure  in  the  casual  observation  of 
things  that  do  not  matter.  Man  does  not  live  by 
bread  alone — he  likes  a  little  jam  with  it  sometimes. 
Efficiency  is  not  the  only  object  in  fife — albeit  a 
very  important  one.  Every  one  should  strive  to 
make  his  or  her  fife  interesting.    A  keen  interest  in 

[33] 


\J 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

what  is  going  on  around  us  is  one  of  the  best  aids  to 
happiness. 

The  power  of  weighing  and  judging  evidence  is 
important,  but  the  doubting  habit  is  to  be  avoided. 
There  must  be  a  sense  of  proportion.  [If  a  business 
man  is  called  upon  to  make,  say,  twenty  decisions 
in  a  day,  he  selects  by  instinct  those  which  are 
relatively  unimportant,  and  comes  to  speedy  con- 
clusions, knowing  full  well  the  deadly  effect  of 
arrears.  Nothing  is  more  desirable  than  the  art  of 
picking  out  the  thing  that  really  matters ;  the  knack 
of  going  to  the  heart  of  a  subject.  This  applies  not 
only  to  reasoning  on  specific  subjects,  but  to  the 
conduct  of  life  and  business,  j 

The  story  goes  that  Lord  Chancellor  Eldon,  a 
great  doubter,  had  offered  to  him  two  country 
houses  in  which  to  spend  his  summer  vacation.  He 
applied  his  mind  to  a  close  comparison  between  the 
two.  No.  1  was  better  furnished,  had  more  bed- 
rooms, was  easier  of  access  to  London,  etc.  No.  2 
was  situated  in  prettier  scenery,  the  library  was 
better,  he  had  more  friends  in  the  neighbourhood, 
etc.  He  debated  the  matter  so  long  that  the  sum- 
mer passed  before  he  arrived  at  a  decision,  no  doubt 
unconsciously  influenced  by  his  wife,  the  most  par- 
simonious of  women. 

In  this  connexion  note  that  in  the  practical 
affairs  of  life  and  business  people  with  plain,  simple 
minds,  and  a  clear,  definite  objective,  are  more 
[34] 


HOW  TO  OBSERVE 

effective  than  those  with  more  diverse  interests  and 
more  subtle  intellects.  They  know  where  they  want 
to  go,  and  move  forward  with  a  steady,  persistent 
effort.  That  explains  why  the  stupid  often  domi- 
nate the  clever.  1 


[35] 


Ill:     HOW  TO  READ 


' 


Ill 

HOW  TO  READ 

Some  books  are  to  be  tasted,  others  to  be  swallowed, 
and  some  few  to  be  chewed  and  digested. 

— Lord  Bacon 

Study  and  reading  are  two  different  things. 
Some  books  can  be  understood  only  by  study. 
Each  chapter  must  be  read  over  and  over  again 
until  the  student  understands  it.  Each  chapter 
must  be  epitomised  in  writing,  and  the  reader  must 
examine  himself  with  a  key,  or  get  some  one  else  to 
examine  him,  so  that  he  may  ascertain  what  prog- 
ress he  is  making.  If  he  is  new  to  the  subject  he 
will  meet  with  many  words  he  does  not  understand. 
These  he  must  look  out  in  the  dictionary.  As  time 
goes  on  he  will  find  that  he  can  grasp  the  subject 
without  taking  so  much  trouble.  For  example, 
take  an  engineering,  law,  accountancy,  or  medical 
student.  When  he  reads  his  first  technical  book  he 
finds  difficulty  in  understanding  it.  In  course  of 
time  he  can  read  books  relating  to  his  profession 
with  ease,  if  not  with  pleasure.  It  is  usually  worth 
while  to  read  a  serious  book  twice  and  to  allow  an 
interval  to  elapse  between  the  first  and  second  peru- 

[39] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

sals.    On  a  second  reading  fresh  points  are  often 
discovered. 

All  this,  however,  has  much  more  to  do  with 
study  than  with  reading;  and,  as  I  have  said,  these 
are  different  things.  The  tendency  to  confuse  them 
is  at  the  bottom  of  a  great  deal  of  book-shyness. 
Study  is  directed  to  special,  local,  and  often  tem- 
porary purposes,  and,  to  be  successful,  must  often 
be  laborious.  Reading  should  also  have  a  purpose, 
but  it  is  a  much  wider  one.  The  end  of  study, 
broadly  speaking,  is  information;  the  end  of  read- 
ing is  wisdom.  Study  is  concerned  with  the  meth- 
ods and  furniture  of  life,  reading  is  concerned  with 
life  itself  in  our  deepest  experience.  The  distinc- 
tion is  vital,  and  it  was  the  theme  of  Matthew 
Arnold's  lecture  on  "Literature  and  Science"  de- 
livered in  America  in  1885.  He  pointed  out  that 
Science  is  confined  to  the  domain  of  knowledge,  and 
that  only  very  indirectly  does  this  knowledge  affect 
our  sense  of  conduct  and  our  sense  of  beauty,  be- 
cause it  is  not  knowledge  touched  with  emotion. 
Science  is  concerned  with  new  inquiries  and  truths 
and  with  the  laws  of  the  universe  and  with  the 
visible  progress  of  all  the  machinery  of  life;  whereas 
literature  is  concerned  with  conduct,  with  beauty, 
with  elevation  of  mind,  and  with  those  highest 
things  which  are  the  same  to-day,  yesterday,  and 
for  ever.  This  is  the  knowledge  which  can  be 
derived  from  Literature  as  distinct  from  Science, 
and  from  Reading  as  distinct  from  Study. 
[40] 


HOW  TO  READ 

Most  great  readers  have  started  without  any  par- 
ticular system.  They  read  what  interested  them. 
Not  a  bad  idea  if  you  understand  and  remember 
what  you  read. 

When  Lord  Avebury,  whose  chapter  on  "The 
Choice  of  Books"  in  his  "Pleasures  of  Life"  I  rec- 
ommend to  you,  consulted  Charles  Darwin  on  the 
selection  of  a  course  of  study,  the  great  naturalist 
asked  him  what  interested  him  most,  and  advised 
him  to  choose  that  subject.  In  like  manner  one 
might  advise  the  young  reader  to  begin  by  reading 
what  interests  him,  and  then  to  follow  his  nose. 
Lord  Sherbrooke  went  so  far  as  to  say:  "Form  a 
habit  of  reading,  do  not  mind  what  you  read,  the 
reading  of  better  books  will  come  when  you  have  a 
habit  of  reading  the  inferior."  But  Mr.  Frederic 
Harrison,  in  his  admirable  essay,  "The  Choice  of 
Books,"  rejects  this  as  dangerous  advice.  You 
may  form  the  habit  of  reading  trash  or  second-rate 
literature  and  never  be  able  to  break  it.  He  would 
have  us  choose  our  books  with  as  much  discretion 
and  taste  as  we  choose  our  friends,  and  he  marvels 
that  men  who  would  not  think  of  choosing  their 
friends  in  a  pot-house  are  content  to  pick  up  with 
almost  any  book  they  "come  across."  His  essay 
should  be  read.  But,  for  the  ordinary  man,  milder 
counsel  may  be  better.  Dr.  Johnson  said  that  he 
would  let  a  boy  at  first  read  any  English  book 
which  attracted  him,  "because  you  have  done  a 
great  deal  when  you  have  brought  him  to  have  some 

[41] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

entertainment  from  a  book."  He  knew  that  ordi- 
nary men  and  women  do  not  take  to  serious  reading 
as  ducks  take  to  water.  In  the  ordinary  way  read- 
ing is  a  recreation.  If  you  are  reading  for  pleasure, 
do  not  make  your  task  repulsive.  Read  books  that 
interest  you.  You  may  fancy  a  particular  subject, 
and  you  may  dislike  another.  Be  on  the  watch  for 
topics  of  interest.  They  are  always  cropping  up. 
But  do  not  read  too  much  fiction.  If  you  contract 
the  fiction  habit  you  will  rarely  read  anything  else. 
As  Mr.  Harrison  says:  "An  insatiable  appetite 
for  new  novels  makes  it  as  hard  to  read  a  master- 
piece as  it  seems  to  a  Parisian  boulvardier  to  live  in 
a  quiet  country."  The  art  of  reading  serious  books 
is  not  natural  to  most  people.  It  must  be  developed 
or  acquired,  but  the  same  applies  to  most  recrea- 
tions— bridge,  tennis,  golf,  billiards,  etc.  You  may 
not  care  for  a  game  when  you  begin,  but  as  you 
gain  proficiency  it  grows  on  you,  and  gradually 
you  become  a  devotee.  So  it  is  with  reading  serious 
books.  You  may  not  care  for  them  at  first,  but  you 
acquire  the  taste,  and  supply  yourself  with  the 
means  of  spending  many  happy  and  instructive 
hours.  Sound  books  are  lasting  friends,  and  there 
is  an  illimitable  supply. 

One  object  of  reading  is  to  enable  us  to  under- 
stand the  art  of  life.  In  most  cases  the  conditions 
of  people's  lives  are  imposed  by  necessity,  but  most 
of  us  can  modify  them  by  creating  new  interests. 
Books  offer  infinite  possibilities  in  that  direction. 
[42] 


HOW  TO  READ 

This  workaday  world  is  so  trying  at  times, 

Folks  chatter  and  squabble  like  rooks ! 
So  the  wise  flee  away  to  the  best  of  all  climes, 
Which  you  enter  through  History,  Memoirs  ot  Rhymes, 

That  most  wonderful  Country  of  Books. 

And  griefs  are  forgotten.     You  go  on  a  tour 

More  wondrous  than  any  of  "Cook's"; 
It  costs  you  but  little — your  welcome  is  sure — 
Your  spirits  revive  in  the  atmosphere  pure 

Of  the  wonderful  Country  of  Books. 

Your  friends  rally  round  you.     You  shake  by  the  hand 

Philosophers,  soldiers,  and  spooks ! 
Adventurers,  heroes,   and  all  the  bright  band 
Of  poets  and  sages  are  yours  to  command 

In  that  wonderful  Country  of  Books. 

New  heights  are  explored;  and  new  banners  unfurled; 

New  joys  found  in  all  sorts  of  nooks — 
From  the  work-weary  brain  misgivings  are  hurled — 
You  come  back  refreshed  to  this  workaday  world 

From  that  wonderful  Country  of  Books. 

Books  will  help  you  to  take  advantage  of  your 
opportunities,  and  has  not  some  one  said  that  the 
art  of  life  consists  in  the  seizing  of  opportunities? 
It  must,  however,  be  admitted  that  while  books 
broaden  the  outlook,  practical  experience  is  the  best 
guide.  You  require  a  happy  combination  of  expe- 
rience and  bookwork  in  the  proportion  of,  say, 
three  to  one.  Some  people  have  the  gift  of  creating 
opportunities.  They  examine  the  position  and 
strike  out  in  a  new  line.  But  this  involves  powers 
of  initiative  comparatively  rare.  It  is,  however, 
within  the  meanest  capacity  to  sit  down  quietly  and 
take  stock.    "What  have  I  done?"    "What  am  I 

[43] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

going  to  do?"  We  are  a]]  apt  to  get  into  grooves. 
What  Matthew  Arnold  calls  "each  days  petty 
dust"  obscures  our  vision.  We  are  so  taken  up 
with  the  detail  of  life  that  we  fail  to  mark  the 
progress  of  time,  and  perhaps  lose  great  oppor- 
tunities because  we  do  not  look  for  them. 

I  have  said,  "Read  what  interests  you."  Always 
have  some  topic  uppermost  in  your  mind.  A  chance 
meeting  or  conversation  may  open  up  a  train  of 
inquiry.  For  example,  when  I  was  a  youth  I  heard 
two  men  arguing  about  Cromwell's  ancestry.  Up 
to  then  I  had  taken  no  special  interest  in  Cromwell. 
I  had  been  taught  about  his  public  achievements, 
but  knew  little  of  the  man.  The  conversation  led  me 
to  buy  a  "Life  of  Cromwell."  I  looked  up  the  point 
which  had  been  discussed.  I  found  the  Cromwell 
family  an  interesting  study.  Then  I  bought  a  book 
containing  his  speeches.  Cromwell  made  me  inter- 
ested in  the  personalities  of  Pym  and  Hampden,  so 
I  took  an  excursion  into  their  lives.  If  you  are 
interested,  try  Morley's  "Life  of  Cromwell,"  Fred- 
eric Harrison's  "Life  of  Cromwell,"  and  Gold  win 
Smith's  "Three  English  Statesmen."  It  is  inter- 
esting to  follow  up  a  subject.  For  example,  the 
growth  and  expansion  of  the  British  Empire,  get- 
ting together  such  books  as  Seeley's  "Expansion  of 
England,"  "The  Life  of  William  Pitt,"  by  Basil 
Williams,  Lord  Rosebery's  "Chatham,"  Macau- 
lay's  "Essay  on  Chatham,"  "Wolfe  and  Mont- 
calm," by  Parkman,  "Clive"  in  the  "British  Men  of 
[44] 


HOW  TO  READ 

Action"  series,  Macaulay's  "Essay  on  Clive," 
Mahan's  "Sea  Power,"  etc.  Or  the  growth  of  the 
modern  attitude  towards  the  poorer  and  industrial 
classes,  taking  Morley's  "Rousseau,"  Disraeli's 
"Sybil,"  Ruskin's  "Unto  this  Last,"  and  Webb's 
"History  of  Trade  Unionism." 

To  be  sure,  you  may  not  want  to  draw  up  a  long 
programme  in  advance.  When  you  have  done  so  it 
may  frighten  and  fatigue  you  in  the  prospect.  But 
let  one  book  lead  you  to  another.  Let  it  excite  j^our 
further  curiosity  along  its  own  lines.  If  you  have 
read  and  enjoyed  Macaulay's  slashing  and  enter- 
taining essay  on  Croker's  edition  of  Boswell's 
"Johnson"  you  will  surely  feel  the  impulse  to  tackle 
that  great  and  boundlessly  entertaining  biography 
in  earnest.  A  great  many  people  have  not  read  it 
because  they  are  shy  of  buying  long  books  and 
regard  the  reading  of  them  a  solemn  and  rather 
tremendous  business.  They  regard  large  books  as 
they  do  formidable  persons.  But  break  the  ice. 
And  try  this  kind  of  chain  reading. 

There  is  much  to  be  said  for  reading  good  books 
about  books,  I  mean  those  which  convey  the  flavour 
of  fine  literature.  There  have  been  many  such 
tasters  and  recommenders.  Charles  Lamb,  Wil- 
liam Hazlitt,  Walter  Bagehot,  Ruskin,  Edward 
Fitzgerald  (in  his  letters)  and  Robert  Louis  Ste- 
venson— to  name  a  few  at  random — were  such,  and 
so,  also,  very  notably  to-day,  is  Mr.  Augustine 
Birrell. 

[45] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

It  may  seem  a  revolutionary  statement,  but  the 
truth  is  that,  with  the  exception  of  specialists,  very 
few  people  read  old  books,  and  very  few  old  books 
are  worth  reading,  if  the  reader's  opportunities  are 
limited.  As  a  clever  person  remarked  the  other 
day,  "Few  books  have  the  eternal  verities  of  matter 
and  style."  If  the  ordinary  man  wishes  to  read, 
say,  philosophy,  he  had  better  get  a  modern  book 
that  will  describe  the  teachings  of  Hobbes,  Locke, 
Kant,  Hume,  etc.  If  he  tries  to  read  the  originals 
he  will  be  bored,  and  will  probably  fail  to  grasp  the 
portions  of  the  theories  of  the  various  authors  which 
have  become  incorporated  in  the  mesh  of  philo- 
sophic thought. 

It  is  curious  to  note  the  attitudes  of  different  men 
towards  books.  When  I  was  young  I  came  into 
touch  with  two  old  lawyers'  clerks — both  great 
Shakespeareans.  I  think  they  had  read  nothing 
else,  except  a  book  on  costs  and  Day's  "Common 
Law  Procedure  Acts."  They  could  quote  against 
each  other  by  the  hour.  I  thought  I  would  take 
part  in  the  proceedings,  but  soon  found  that  verbal 
memorising  was  not  in  my  line.  However,  I  took 
to  reading  Shakespeare  pretty  closely,  and  with  the 
aid  of  Dr.  Johnson  was  able  to  point  out  certain 
things  in  connexion  with  their  favourite  plays 
which  my  old  friends  had  never  thought  of.  I  made 
the  interesting  discovery  that,  being  lawyers'  clerks, 
they  fully  appreciated  the  themes  of  King  Lear, 
Macbeth,  and  Othello,  etc.,  but  they  never  resolved 
[46] 


HOW  TO  READ 

the  plays  into  terms  of  actual  existence.  They  were 
just  plays  and  nothing  else.  Love,  ingratitude, 
jealousy,  craftiness,  ambition,  and  murder  were  the 
ordinary  everyday  things  of  life.  Shakespeare  had 
made  them  interesting,  but  it  never  occurred  to  my 
two  old  friends  that  the  plays  pointed  any  lessons 
or  that  principles  gained  from  books  could  be  ap- 
plied to  the  conduct  of  life.  Their  lives  were  shaped 
entirely  on  instinct  and  experience.  They  took  no 
notice  of  books,  but  were  strong  on  certain  maxims 
they  had  heard  enunciated  by  their  fathers,  barris- 
ters, and  others  with  whom  they  had  come  in  con- 
tact :  terse  sentences  pregnant  with  worldly  wisdom 
— "Once  a  rascal,  always  a  rascal,"  and  so  on.  I 
have  often  thought  since  that  the  majority  of  people 
conduct  their  lives  on  the  same  plan.  Some  time 
afterwards  I  met  a  clever  man  who  was  a  keen 
biologist,  philosopher,  and  political  economist.  He 
introduced  me  to  Darwin's  "Origin  of  Species," 
"The  Descent  of  Man,"  Mill's  "Political  Econ- 
omy," and  several  books  of  Herbert  Spencer's.  He 
was  the  antithesis  of  the  lawyers'  clerks.  His  life 
was  compounded  of  theories.  He  was  always  try- 
ing to  apply  the  rules  laid  down  by  his  heroes  to 
commonplace  events  of  life.  If  he  discharged  his 
office  boy  he  would  make  sage  remarks  about  the 
survival  of  the  fittest,  the  transfer  of  labour  to  more 
suitable  occupations,  and  the  reversion  to  type.  I 
cannot  say  that  he  was  very  successful.  In  short, 
he  was  a  crank. 

[47] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

Concerning  poetry,  it  must  be  confessed  that 
most  English  people  arc  not  fond  of  verse.  They 
regard  tin-  reading  of  it  as  waste  of  time,  in  which 
respect  they  differ  from  the  Scottish  and  Welsh. 
It  is  best  to  begin  with  something  simple— -even  the 
"Ingoldsby  Legends,"  or  with  a  good  anthology  of 
English  verse,  containing  the  star  turns,  from 
which  you  can  make  your  own  selection,  or  with  a 
poem  full  of  lilt  and  rhythm,  but  which  tells  a  dra- 
matic story,  such  as  Tennyson's  "Revenge." 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh  points  out,  in  his  life  of  the 
poet,  that  present-day  ideas  of  heaven  and  hell  are 
based  on  "Paradise  Lost"  and  "Paradise  Re- 
gained." You  might  ascertain  whether  you  agree 
with  him.  Poetrjr  is  like  Opera.  At  the  first  go-off 
the  mind  is  intent  on  the  unfolding  of  the  story  and 
in  endeavouring  to  ascertain  the  author's  mean- 
ing. On  further  acquaintance  the  hearer,  being  no 
longer  distracted  by  these  considerations,  devotes 
himself  to  the  real  purpose  of  the  entertainment — 
namely,  the  enjoyment  of  the  music,  which  he 
learns  to  appreciate  for  its  own  sake,  irrespective  of 
the  drama.  The  same  thing  applies  to  poetry. 
When  the  story  or  meaning  has  been  gathered,  the 
reader  is  free  to  devote  himself  to  enjoying  the 
method  of  expression.  Poetry  is  the  language  of 
the  emotions.  A  few  lines  of  verse  are  more  suited 
to  the  requirements  of  the  lover,  or  a  man  in  trouble, 
than  volumes  of  prose. 
[48] 


HOW  TO  READ 

Some  time  ago  "John  o'  London"  asked  me  to 
contribute  to  a  symposium  concerning  a  few  books 
best  calculated  to  form  the  character  of  a  young 
man  of  twenty-one.  I  thought  of  suggesting  the 
first  chapters  of  Anson  on  "Contracts"  and  Pollock 
on  "Torts"  (Wrongs),  the  first  sixty-three  pages 
of  Best  on  "Evidence,"  Shakespeare,  and  an  an- 
thology of  English  verse.  You  will  probably  say 
"A  strange  mixture!"  You  might  say  the  same 
thing  of  life.  A  man  who  had  read  and  grasped 
these  books  would  know : 

1.  How  to  judge  evidence. 

2.  His  rights  and  responsibilities  in  relation  to 
his  fellow-citizens. 

3.  From  Shakespeare  he  would  learn  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  world  and  human  nature,  and,  in  a 
sense,  history,  and  would  develop  his  sense  of 
honour. 

4.  The  poets  would  tell  him  how  to  enjoy  his  life, 
how  to  admire  nature  and  how  to  bear  his 
troubles. 

Many  well-known  and  successful  men  contrib- 
uted to  this  symposium,  and  their  selections  of 
books  which  in  their  experience  tend  to  build  up 
mind  and  character  were  very  interesting  and  often 
curious.  In  some  instances  the  choice  was  highly 
personal,  and  not  such  as  one  would  expect,  but 
this  only  added  to  the  value  of  the  list.  Here  are  a 
number  of  typical  selections : 

[49] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

Emerson's  Essays. 

Carlyle's  "Sartor  Resartus,"  "Heroes  and  Hero- 
Worship, "  and  "Past  and  Present." 

Boswell's  "Life  of  Johnson." 

Wordsworth's  Works. 

The  Dialogues  of  Plato    (in  Jowett's  transla- 
tion). 

Marcus  Aurelius. 

Maeterlinck's  "Buried  Temple." 

Trevelyan's  "Life  of  Macaulay." 

Lockhart's  "Life  of  Sir  Walter  Scott." 

J.  S.  Mill's  "Liberty." 

Spencer's  "Data  of  Ethics." 

Browning's  "The  Ring  and  the  Book." 

Voltaire's  "Candide." 

Smiles's  "Self-Help." 

Shakespeare. 

Thucydides. 

Charnwood's  "Life  of  Lincoln." 

Ruskin's  "Sesame  and  Lilies,"  "Crown  of  Wild 
Olive,"  and  "Unto  this  Last." 

Lessing's  "Laocoon." 

Prescott's  "Conquest  of  Mexico." 

Mrs.  Steele's  "India  throughout  the  Ages." 

Lew  Wallace's  "Ben  Hur." 

Devas's  "Key  to  the  World." 

Cobbett's  "Protestant  Reformation." 

Sir  Thomas  Browne's  "Religio  Medici." 

Matthew  Arnold's  "Essays  in  Criticism"  and 
"Literature  and  Dogma." 
[50] 


HOW  TO  READ 

Darwin's  "Descent  of  Man." 

Sir  Robert  Ball's  "Story  of  the  Heavens." 

Wells's  "Outline  of  History." 

Sir  E.  Ray  Lankester's  "Science  from  an  Easy 
Chair,"  "Diversions  of  a  Naturalist"  and  "The 
Kingdom  of  Man." 

Browning's  Poems. 

Sophocles'  Tragedies. 

John  Morley's  "Compromise." 

Dean  Inge's  "Outspoken  Essays." 
_  Such  a  list  could  be  greatly  extended. 

The  art  of  rapid  reading  is  valuable.  Few  people 
possess  it.  But  it  is  useless  to  read  rapidly  if  you 
do  not  follow  or  cannot  remember  what  you  read. 
The  act  of  quick  reading  can  be  acquired  by  prac- 
tice^ Accountants  are  quick  at  reading  balance- 
sheets;  lawyers,  briefs;  sub-editors,  the  horrible 
flimsy  "copy"  which  the  ordinary  individual  can 
hardly  read  at  all.  In  other  words,  "practice  makes 
perfect."  The  brain  is  a  wonderful  organiser. 
When  a  child  learns  to  read,  the  mind  takes  charge 
of  the  operation,  and  puzzles  away  over  A,  B,  C, 
etc.  But  gradually  as  the  little  student  progresses, 
the  task  is  handed  over  to  the  automatic  department 
in  the  brain,  thus  relieving  the  mind  of  routine 
work.  The  same  happens,  more  or  less,  in  regard 
to  apprehending  the  contents  of  written  or  printed 
matter.  Concentration  is  necessary  for  quick  and 
instructive  reading.    Note  the  avidity  with  which 

[51] 


J 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

the  merchant  reads  his  morning's  letters.  Nothing 
escapes  him.  Then  note  the  change  when  he  reads 
a  book  on  a  subject  in  which  he  is  but  little  in- 
terested. 


[52] 


IV:    THE  ART  OF  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 


IV 
THE  ART  OF  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

His  words  like  so  many  nimble  and  airy  servitors 
trip  about  him  at  command. 

John  Milton 

The  art  of  public  speaking  may  be  divided  into 
two  parts — what  to  say,  and  how  to  say  it. 

A  good  delivery  covers  many  defects,  but  no  one 
can  hope  to  become  a  first-class  speaker  unless  he 
has  something  to  say  that  is  worth  saying.  To  pro- 
duce a  good  speech  the  speaker  must  have  knowl- 
edge, experience,  and  imagination.  If  he  has 
humour,  so  much  the  better.  He  must  have  also  a 
sense  of  proportion  and  suitability. 

After-dinner  and  social  speaking  is  one  thing; 
serious  platform  speaking  another ;  speaking  before 
a  deliberative  assembly  a  third;  lecturing  and 
preaching  a  fourth;  advocacy  a  fifth;  and  finally 
there  is  addressing  company  meetings  and  trade 
gatherings.  Each  type  of  speaking  demands  dif- 
ferent qualifications  and  different  methods  of  prep- 
aration. A  slight  occasion  such  as  an  after-dinner 
speech  is  unsuitable  for  heavy  preparation,  and 
while  an  after-dinner  speaker  should  go  prepared, 
he  should  endeavour  to  adjust  himself  to  the  at- 

[55] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

mosphere  of  the  gathering.  For  a  serious  occasion 
a  speech  should  be  carefully  thought  out  before- 
hand. Most  of  the  great  speakers  spend  much  time 
and  trouble  in  preparing  their  speeches.  Some  dic- 
tate or  write  them  out  in  full.  Then  heads  for 
guidance  when  speaking  are  carefully  prepared. 
These  are  usually  written  on  cards  or  stiff  half- 
sheets  of  paper,  carefully  tied  together  to  prevent 
their  escape  in  the  course  of  the  speech.  Important 
passages  and  the  peroration  are  usually  written  out 
fully  in  the  notes. 

No  absolute  rules  about  preparation  can  be  laid 
down;  so  much  depends  on  temperament.  John 
Bright  brooded  long  and  painfully  over  a  speech 
he  was  about  to  deliver,  but  the  only  part  he  actually 
wrote  out  was  his  peroration.  For  he  understood 
the  enormous  value  of  that  spontaneous  under- 
standing which  arises  between  an  audience  and  a 
good  speaker — an  exchange  of  inspiration  on  the 
spot.  Therefore  he  prepared  only  notes  for  the 
body  of  his  speech.  But  he  understood  also  the 
immense  importance  of  a  clean  and  effective  end- 
ing. Mr.  T.  P.  O'Connor,  one  of  the  best  judges 
of  oratory  I  know,  describes  this  care  for  the  end  as 
a  wise  precaution.  He  says:  "You  may  remark 
in  Shakespeare  that  he  often  gives  a  couple  of 
rhymed  lines  to  the  actor  when  he  has  to  leave  the 
stage.  That  leaving  the  stage  with  effectiveness  is 
one  of  the  most  difficult  things  in  the  world  to 
accomplish;  it  is  like  a  man  trying  to  get  out  of  a 
[50] 


THE  ART  OF  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

drawing-room.  Similarly  the  fitting  and  dignified 
conclusion  of  a  speech  is  one  of  the  difficulties  of 
oratory.  How  often  have  I  heard  a  man  making 
half  a  dozen  perorations  before  he  found  the  right 
one  on  which  he  could  wind  up,  as  he  thought,  with 
grace."  The  art  of  sitting  down  at  the  right  mo- 
ment applies  to  every  kind  of  speaking,  and,  not 
least,  to  mere  after-dinner  speaking.  A  man  who 
is  uncertain  of  himself  would  be  wise  to  arrange 
with  his  neighbour  at  a  banquet  to  pull  him  down 
violently  at  the  right  moment  and  to  leave  that 
moment  to  his  discretion.  Speaking  is  a  knack 
which  comes  from  constant  practice,  and  while  the 
accomplished  speaker  frequently  prepares  set 
speeches,  he  has  the  art  of  thinking  on  his  legs,  and, 
when  necessary,  can  make  a  creditable  performance 
on  the  spur  of  the  moment.  This  introduces  that 
very  important  element  in  good  speaking — fluency, 
which  does  not  necessarily  mean  rapid  speaking.  It 
means  a  command  of  words  equal  to  the  flow  of 
thought.  How  fluency  can  be  attained  is  a  hard 
question.  The  elder  and  the  younger  Pitt  thought 
they  knew  the  best  way,  and  many  other  great 
orators  have  adopted  their  recipe.  It  is,  no  doubt, 
a  difficult  one,  but  its  effectiveness  can  hardly  be 
disputed.  It  is  to  take  a  book  in  any  foreign  lan- 
guage which  you  know  fairly  well,  and  make  free 
translations  from  its  pages.  The  book  gives  you  a 
train  of  thought;  it  is  yours  to  supply  equivalent 
English  words  in  elegance  and  order.    Lord  Stan- 

[57] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

hope,  Pitt's  biographer,  thus  describes  the  method: 
"No  man  had  that  gift  of  using  in  public  speaking 
the  right  word  in  the  right  place;  no  man  carried 
that  gift  to  a  higher  degree  of  perfection,  as  all 
parties  have  owned,  than  Mr.  Pitt.  Now  my  father 
.  .  .  ventured  on  one  occasion  to  ask  Mr.  Pitt  by 
what  means — by  what  course  of  study — he  had 
acquired  that  readiness  of  speech — that  aptness  of 
finding  the  right  word.  Mr.  Pitt  replied  that  what- 
ever readiness  he  might  be  thought  to  possess  in 
that  respect  he  believed  he  derived  very  much  from 
a  practice  his  father,  the  great  Lord  Chatham,  had 
enjoined  on  him.  Lord  Chatham  had  bid  him  take 
up  any  book  in  some  foreign  language  with  which 
he  was  well  acquainted — in  Latin,  Greek,  or  French 
for  example.  He  then  enjoined  him  to  read  out  of 
this  work  a  passage  in  English,  stopping  where  he 
was  not  sure  of  the  word  until  the  right  one  came, 
and  then  proceed.  Mr.  Pitt  states  that  he  had 
assiduously  followed  this  practice.  At  first  he  had 
often  to  stop  for  a  while  before  he  could  find  the 
proper  word;  but  he  found  the  difficulties  gradually 
disappear,  until  what  was  a  toil  to  him  at  first  be- 
came at  last  an  easy  and  familiar  task." 

Archbishop  Magee  gave  the  same  advice  more 
briefly,  but  did  not  insist  on  a  foreign  language. 
The  exercise  he  prescribed  was  rapid  paraphrase. 
"Take  a  passage  from  some  well-known  classic 
author,  and  render  the  passage  into  equivalent 
words,  so  as  to  express  the  same  idea.  Thus  you 
[58] 


THE  ART  OF  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

will  acquire  the  power  of  choosing,  of  substituting 
one  word  for  another." 

Contrasting  the  verbal  methods  of  Pitt  and  Fox, 
Richard  Porson  said:  "Pitt  carefully  considered 
his  sentences  before  he  uttered  them;  Fox  threw 
himself  into  the  middle  of  his,  and  left  it  to  God 
Almighty  to  get  him  out  again." 

Mr.  Lloyd  George  carefully  prepares  his  set 
speeches,  the  heads  of  the  arguments  being  set  down 
in  detail  on  half -sheets  of  stiff  paper  and  important 
phrases  being  written  out  in  full.  Mr.  Winston 
Churchill  adopts  a  different  practice.  He  dictates 
his  set  speeches  in  their  entirety.  Sir  Arthur  Bal- 
four usually  makes  a  few  notes  on  the  back  of  a 
large  envelope,  but  often  speaks  without  notes  and 
prepares  his  arguments  while  on  his  legs.  Mr. 
Bonar  Law  plans  his  speeches  in  his  head,  and 
never  uses  notes.  Lord  Birkenhead  more  or  less 
adopts  the  Balfourian  method. 

A  friend  of  mine  told  John  Bright  that  he  had 
heard  him  deliver  what  my  friend  thought  was  his 
best  speech.  John  Bright  smiled  and  said,  "I  sup- 
pose you  refer  to  the  Angel  of  death."  "No,"  said 
my  friend,  "it  was  the  speech  you  delivered  on  the 
Burial  Bill."  John  Bright's  eyes  lit  up  and  he 
replied,  "You  are  quite  right,  but  that  is  not  the 
general  opinion.  I  rehearsed  the  speech  for  three 
days  before  I  delivered  it.  But,"  he  remarked 
thoughtfully,  "the  unpremeditated  part  was  the 
best.    I  commenced  by  saying  'I  am  glad  that  the 

[59] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

chief  opposition  to  this  Bill  has  come  from  the 
University  of  Oxford;  that  ancient  seat  of  learning 
and — after  a  pause — undying  prejudice.'  There 
are  occasions  on  which  it  is  necessary  to  lead  up  to 
a  subject,  but  sometimes  one  can  capture  one's 
audience  immediately  by  a  phrase."  He  added, 
smilingly,  "I  was  successful  in  doing  so  on  that 


occasion." 


Parliamentary  debaters  have  this  gift  of  rapid 
thought  and  speech  highly  developed — the  power 
of  rapidly  seizing  upon  and  emphasising  the  weak 
points  in  opponents'  arguments,  and  of  enforcing 
the  strong  points  in  their  own  case.  Cobden  never 
made  notes  for  his  speeches,  and  prided  himself  on 
being  able  to  think  and  speak  in  the  presence  of  an 
audience  as  if  he  were  writing  in  his  library,  but  he 
said  that  his  constant  and  overruling  thought,  which 
long  experience  of  the  arts  of  controversialists  had 
impressed  on  Ins  mind,  was  to  avoid  the  possibility 
of  being  misrepresented,  and  to  prevent  his  oppo- 
nents from  raising  a  false  issue.  Those  who  are 
learning  to  speak  should  bear  this  in  mind.  They 
should  state  their  meaning  as  clearly  as  possible, 
both  from  the  point  of  view  of  argument  and  the 
selection  of  words. 

As  we  all  know,  there  are  occasions  on  which 
speakers  are  anxious  to  avoid  saying  exactly  what 
they  mean,  and  to  endeavour  to  leave  a  loop-hole 
open  for  the  construction  which  suits  them  best 
when  the  occasion  arises.  Arts  of  this  sort  are  to  be 
[60] 


THE  ART  OF  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

deplored,  and  happily  the  conjurer  with  words, 
who  can  make  successful  use  of  them,  is  rare.  The 
clumsy,  inexperienced  speaker  is  usually  hoist  with 
his  own  petard.  His  audience  see  through  the  de- 
vice, and  when  later  on  he  endeavours  to  avail  him- 
self of  his  subtle  phraseology  he  finds  that  his 
loop-hole  was  badly  chosen,  and  leads  to  conviction 
instead  of  acquittal. 

There  are  four  sorts  of  speeches : 

1.  Those  which  impress  the  audience,  and  also 
the  public  when  read ; 

2.  Those  which  impress  the  audience,  but  read 
indifferently; 

3.  Those  which  do  not  impress  the  audience,  but 
which  read  well ;  and 

4.  Those  which  impress  no  one. 

In  the  third  class  no  one  was  more  conspicuous 
than  Edmund  Burke.  His  speeches  read  magnifi- 
cently, but  in  the  House  of  Commons  he  was  nick- 
named "The  Dinner  Bell."  Sheridan  said  of  him, 
"When  posterity  read  the  speeches  of  Burke  they 
will  hardly  be  able  to  believe  that,  during  his  life- 
time, he  was  not  considered  as  a  first-rate  speaker, 
not  even  as  a  second-rate  one." 

Lincoln's  "Gettysburg"  speech  is  one  of  the  most 
famous  orations  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  language,  and 
yet  we  are  told  that  when  delivered  it  made  but 
little  impression  and  was  completely  over-shadowed 
by  the  speech  of  a  "spellbinder." 

It  may  be  asked,  "In  what  respect  do  speeches 

[61] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

differ  from  a  pamphlet  or  magazine  article?" 
There  is  an  essential  difference.  Speech  has  a 
human  element  lacking  in  the  written  word,  hecause 
speech  is  communication  between  the  speaker  and 
his  audience  face  to  face.  This  fact  should  be  ever 
present  to  the  speaker's  mind  both  when  preparing 
and  delivering  the  speech.  People  addressed  each 
other  by  word  of  mouth  long  before  they  wrote. 
Speech,  therefore,  is  more  primitive  and  human 
than  written  matter.  Public  speaking  not  only  ad- 
mits but  demands  characteristics  which  would  be 
blemishes  in  compositions  intended  to  be  read.  The 
attention  of  the  audience  must  be  held,  arguments 
repeated,  and  free  use  made  of  analogies  and  illus- 
trations. For  this  reason  good  speakers  are  often 
bad  writers,  while  good  writers  are  rarely  effective 
speakers.  Au  fond,  a  speech  is  a  transitory, 
evanescent,  episodic  production,  depending  for  its 
immediate  effect  not  only  upon  the  matter  but  upon 
the  delivery  which  enables  the  great  speaker  to 
sway  his  hearers.  From  their  point  of  view  person- 
ality is  the  thing  that  counts  for  most.  In  written 
compositions  it  stands  for  little  or  nothing.  The 
quality  of  the  written  word  is  the  only  thing  that 
matters.  The  author  may  be  repulsive,  but  he  is 
invisible.  He  looks  at  you  only  through  the  printed 
page.  The  speaker  is  judged  by  what  he  is  or  what 
he  appears  to  be.  No  man  can  achieve  wide  dis- 
tinction as  a  speaker  unless  he  can  impress  an  audi- 
ence face  to  face.  That  is  the  acid  test  of  oratory, 
[62] 


THE  ART  OF  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

high  or  low.  That  is  how  the  speaker  makes  his 
reputation. 

Every  speaker  should  endeavour  to  cultivate  a 
good  style.  He  should  take  care  to  form  his  sen- 
tences properly — long,  tortuous  periods  should  be 
rigidly  avoided.  It  takes  a  great  orator  like  Mr. 
Gladstone  to  carry  through  successfully  to  the  end 
lengthy,  involved  passages.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered that  style  is  a  question  of  personality.  The 
mind  acquires  its  most  lasting  impressions  slowly 
and  almost  unconsciously.  Well-formed  sentences 
and  clear  expression  become  a  habit,  while  on  the 
other  hand  "Evil  communications  corrupt  good 
manners"  and  good  speeches.  The  tongue  uncon- 
sciously adopts  the  style  continually  presented  to  it 
by  the  eye  or  the  ear.  Many  speakers  take  con- 
siderable trouble  to  maintain  their  style  and  keep 
up  their  vocabulary.  I  know  one  excellent  speaker 
who,  for  this  purpose,  reads  two  chapters  of  the 
Bible  every  night.  I  regarded  him  as  a  devout  per- 
son until  I  discovered  his  reason.  I  have  heard  of 
others  who  take  exercises  in  the  speeches  of  Mr. 
Joseph  Chamberlain  and  Mr.  Lloyd  George. 

In  order  to  speak  well  you  must  know  your  sub- 
ject. Some  speakers  acquire  their  information  from 
books,  others  from  experience,  and  others,  the  best, 
from  both.  It  is  useless  to  endeavour  to  explain 
how  would-be  speakers  should  acquire  powder  and 
shot  for  their  speeches.  Any  such  explanation 
would  involve  a  discussion  of  the  whole  question  of 

[63] 


SOMK  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

education.  In  short,  if  a  speaker  has  got  very  little 
in  his  head,  he  can  gel  very  little  oul  of  it. 

But,  when  we  come  to  method,  speaking  lias  a 

literature  and  a  tradition  all  its  own.     Many  of  the 

acutest  minds  have  addressed  themselves  to  ascer- 
tain the  best  method  of  presenting  a  case  so  as  to 
capture  the  public  to  which  it  is  desired  t<i  appeal. 

They  have  studied  how  to  deal  with  good  and  had 
cases — how  to  holster  up  the  latter — how  to  destroy 
the  former—how  to  draw  the  red  herring  across 

their  opponent's  path,  and  how  to  persuade  the 
audience  to  accept  fallacies. 

Many  people  who  know  nothing  about  rhetoric 
are  full  of  rhetorical  tricks.  They  know  by  instinct 
what  to  say,  what  not  to  say,  what  to  accentuate, 
when  to  attack,  when  to  defend,  and  when  to 
counter-attack. 

Rhetoric  is  a  sort  of  logic  adapted  for  public 
speaking.  A  dissertation  upon  this  subject  does 
not  come  within  the  scope  of  the  present  chapter, 
but  I  will  endeavour  to  state  briefly  a  few  points  of 
general  interest. 

Before  doing  so,  it  is  perhaps  important  to  ob- 
serve that,  apart  from  elocution,  a  knowledge  of 
grammar  and  pronunciation  is  essential  for  any 
person  who  speaks  in  public — that  is  to  say,  he 
must  speak  grammatically,  whether  he  understands 
grammatical  rules  or  not,  and  must  pronounce  his 
words  correctly.  It  is  surprising  how  many  clever 
men  who  have  made  their  way  in  the  world  make 
[64] 


THE  ART  OF  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

terrible  errors  of  this  sort.  Many  a  fine  phrase  has 
been  spoiled  by  an  "h"  too  much  or  an  "h"  too  little. 
The  strange  thing  is  that  many  of  the  offenders  do 
not  know  that  they  drop  or  insert  "h's." 

Cicero  says  that  the  business  of  logic  is  to  judge 
of  arguments,  not  to  invent  them.  Some  other 
authority  adds  that  the  art  of  inventing  and  arrang- 
ing arguments  is  the  only  true  province  of  rhetoric. 
Some  one  says  that  arguments  unpolished  by 
rhetoric  are  like  a  diamond,  which  is  of  small  use 
until  it  is  cut  and  polished,  when  its  angles  send 
forth  flashes  of  light  which  arrest  and  delight  every 
eye.  Needless  to  say,  a  skilled  diamond-cutter  is 
essential,  otherwise  the  stone  is  spoiled. 

Now,  in  military  operations,  as  the  war  has 
shown  once  more,  the  arrangement  and  disposition 
of  the  troops  are  of  the  greatest  consequence.  The 
genius  of  Foch  made  all  the  difference.  In  speak- 
ing the  same  applies.  Much  depends  on  the  ar- 
rangement of  a  speech,  if  the  object  is  to  convince, 
to  persuade,  or  to  refute  objections.  It  may  be 
argued  that  devices  of  this  sort  are,  or  should  be, 
unnecessary  in  order  to  establish  the  truth  of  vital 
matters.  There  may  be  much  to  be  said  for  that 
contention.  My  only  object  is  to  describe,  briefly, 
the  plans  recommended  and  used  by  countless  gen- 
erations of  rhetoricians,  and  which  are  still  in  vogue 
amongst  politicians,  lawyers,  lecturers,  preachers, 
demagogues,  and  other  speakers,  as  you  may  easily 
note  if  you  examine  their  speeches. 

[65] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 
Mr.  Bernard  Shaw  says  somewhere  that  Christ  is 

the  greatest  of  political  economists.  It  might  be 
said  with  equal  truth  and  without  irreverence  that 
He  is  the  greatest  of  rhetoricians,  using  the  word  in 
the  sense  above  indicated.  When  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees  brought  to  Him  the  woman  taken  in  adul- 
tery, He  confounded  them  by  saying:  "He  that  is 
without  sin  among  you,  let  him  first  cast  a  stone  at 
her."  How  much  more  effective  than  to  say,  as  an 
ordinary  man  would  have  done,  "Begone!  You 
know  that  you  are  all  sinners  and  hypocrites!" 

Or  take  the  parable  of  the  lilies,  bearing  in  mind 
that  the  Lord  was  addressing  the  common  people: 

"Consider  the  lilies  how  they  grow;  they  toil  not, 
they  spin  not;  and  yet  I  say  unto  you,  that  Solomon 
in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these.  If 
then  God  so  clothe  the  grass,  which  is  to-day  in  the 
field  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the  oven,  how  much 
more  will  he  clothe  you,  O  ye  of  little  faith?" 

Note  the  wonderful  skill  of  these  few  lines.  First 
the  speaker  calms  and  exalts  the  minds  of  His 
hearers  by  a  poetic  description  which  conjures  up  a 
beautiful  picture.  Then  He  covertly  enforces  His 
favourite  doctrine  that  mankind  should  not  be  un- 
duly "careful  and  troubled  about  many  things." 
The  lilies  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin,  and  yet  they 
are  better  clothed  than  the  great  ones  of  the  earth 
with  all  their  wealth  and  power.  Then  suddenly 
He  changes  the  description  and  reduces  the  lilies  to 
the  rank  of  grass  (but,  be  it  noted,  better  clothed 
[60] 


THE  ART  OF  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

than  King  Solomon),  and  concludes  by  pointing 
out  that  if  the  Almighty  takes  so  much  care  of  the 
grass  which  to-day  is  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the 
oven,  how  much  more  will  He  look  after  the  com- 
mon people. 

All  the  utterances  of  Jesus  Christ  may  well  be 
studied  from  the  oratorical  point  of  view.  And  St. 
Paul's  short  address  on  Mars  Hill  in  Athens  is  a 
marvel  of  oratorical  tact  and  force. 


[67] 


V:    MAXIMS  FOR  SPEAKERS 


MAXIMS  FOR  SPEAKERS 

Let  your  speech  be  alway  with  grace,  seasoned  with 
salt. 

— Epistle  to  the  Colossians 

I  return  to  the  consideration  of  the  art — or  arts — 
of  public  speaking. 

The  refutation  of  contrary  opinions  often  gives 
scope  for  rhetorical  tricks.  It  is  a  frequent  but  dis- 
honest practice  to  make  a  brief  reference  at  the 
beginning  of  a  speech  to  awkward  objections,  and 
to  promise  to  deal  with  them  later  on.  The  speaker 
then  proceeds  to  develop  his  own  case  so  as  to 
engage  the  attention  of  his  audience,  and  conven- 
iently overlooks  any  detailed  performance  of  his 
undertaking.  You  may  imagine  that  no  intelligent 
person  would  be  led  away  by  such  a  well-known  and 
shallow  device.  But  you  are  mistaken.  The  pre- 
liminary reference  and  promise  quieten  the  minds 
of  the  audience  for  the  time  being,  and  a  powerful 
statement  of  the  speaker's  case,  although  no  real 
answer  to  the  objections,  leads  them  to  accept  his 
view  and  to  pay  no  further  regard  to  the  contrary 
opinion.  A  conjurer's  audience  knows  that  he  will 
attempt  to  divert  their  attention  when  producing 

[71] 


SOME  TIIIXGS  THAT  MATTER 

the  rabbit,  but  it  allows  itself  to  be  deceived  never- 
theless. Note  that  in  unskilful  hands  such  a 
rhetorical  method  is  dangerous.  It  may  be  re- 
marked, however,  that  many  people  who  know  noth- 
ing of  rhetoric  are  naturally  skilful  in  disposing  of 
arguments  in  this  way — particularly  women.  Most 
people  mislead  in  conversation  and  public  speech, 
by  omitting  the  one  fact  more.  An  economy  of 
truth  is  more  common  than  a  profusion  of  lies. 

Generally  speaking,  when  stating  a  case,  the 
speaker  should  begin  by  setting  forth  the  proposi- 
tion he  wishes  to  advance,  and  then  follow  with  his 
arguments;  but  there  is  no  rule.  The  speaker  must 
decide  for  himself  in  each  case.  Supposing  that  a 
local  authority  is  discussing  improved  transport 
facilities,  and  a  member  wishes  to  advocate  motor 
omnibuses  in  preference  to  tramways,  he  can  adopt 
one  of  two  plans.  He  can  begin  by  declaring  his 
opinion  and  then  give  his  reasons,  or  he  can  com- 
mence his  remarks  by  pointing  out  the  disadvan- 
tages of  tramways,  then  proceed  to  indicate  the 
advantages  of  motor  omnibuses,  and  then  declare 
his  opinion.  The  latter  method  has  the  merit  of 
disarming  the  antagonism  which  often  results  when 
a  speaker  states  an  opinion  before  preparing  the 
minds  of  his  hearers  by  stating  the  argument  on 
which  it  is  based.  Sometimes  it  is  well  to  state  and 
answer  the  arguments  which  may  be  made  against 
the  proposal  advocated  by  the  speaker.  One  great 
art  in  speaking  is  to  pick  out  the  essential  points 
[72] 


MAXIMS  FOR  SPEAKERS 

and  to  disregard  the  rest.  And  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  the  obvious  argument  is  the  one  that  is 
most  likely  to  tell.  Most  people  do  not  like  subtle 
or  fantastic  reasons. 

Another  important  rule  is  to  keep  to  the  point  to 
which  you  are  addressing  yourself.  Avoid  excur- 
sions into  other  subjects  or  into  other  branches  of 
the  inquiry.  Here  it  may  be  remarked  that  prac- 
tised speakers  sometimes  make  such  interpolations, 
either  to  relieve  the  mind  of  the  audience  or  to  divert 
their  attention  from  the  weakness  of  the  argument. 
Nothing  is  more  calculated  to  display  such  a  defect 
than  a  consecutive  statement.  To  give  a  very  bald 
instance :  if  I  set  out  to  prove  that  black  is  white,  it 
may  be  more  easy  to  accomplish  the  task  if  in  the 
course  of  the  argument  I  divert  the  attention  of  the 
audience  by  referring  to  the  extravagance  of  the 
Government  in  using  white  instead  of  black  paint. 

A  speaker  should  be  as  brief  as  possible  in  his  re- 
marks. La  Rochefoucauld  says  that  true  eloquence 
consists  in  saying  all  that  is  necessary  and  nothing 
but  what  is  necessary.  Bear  in  mind,  however,  that 
in  most  cases  repetition  is  essential.  The  ordinary 
man  does  not  care  for  tabloid  arguments.  He  likes 
to  ruminate.  To  make  him  think  with  you  it  is 
necessary  to  be  easy  and  pleasing.  Blaise  Pascal, 
one  of  the  most  eloquent  men  who  ever  lived,  has 
these  wise  words :  "Eloquence  is  the  art  of  saying 
things  in  such  a  manner — first,  that  those  to  whom 
they  are  addressed  can  understand  them  without 

[73] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

trouble  and  with  pleasure;  and  secondly,  that  they 
may  he  interested  in  them  in  such  a  way  that  their 
amour  propre  may  lead  them  gladly  to  reflect  upon 
them.  ...  It  must  confine  itself,  as  far  as  possible, 
to  the  simplicity  of  nature,  and  not  make  great  what 
is  small,  nor  small  what  is  great.  It  is  not  enough 
that  a  thing  be  fine,  it  must  be  fitting,  neither  in 
excess  nor  defect.  .  .  .  Eloquence  should  prevail 
by  gentle  suasion,  not  by  constraint.  It  should 
reign,  not  tyrannise." 

The  clever  speaker  thoroughly  understands  the 
art  of  repetition.  He  knows  how  to  repeat  his 
argument  in  different  terms  so  as  not  to  bore  his 
audience.  In  this  connexion  it  may  be  pointed  out 
that  for  the  immediate  purpose  the  most  effective 
speeches  are  not  always  those  which  are  best  in 
form.  At  the  Bar,  for  example,  many  successful 
advocates  have  been  diffuse,  and  their  speeches  when 
read  verbatim  have  been  unattractive.  On  the  other 
hand,  some  legal  speeches  are  models  of  style  and 
form.  Sir  Harry  Poland,  when  at  the  Bar,  was 
famous  for  his  consecutive  statements.  One  could 
see  the  rope  coiling  round  the  criminal's  neck  as  he 
proceeded.  The  great  Lord  Erskine  understood 
the  value  of  the  leading  and  oft-repeated  idea,  or 
refrain.  "In  every  case,"  says  Roscoe,  "he  pro- 
posed a  great  leading  principle  to  which  all  his 
efforts  were  referable  and  subsidiary — which  ran 
through  the  whole  of  his  address,  arranging,  gov- 
erning, and  elucidating  every  portion. 
[74] 


MAXIMS  FOR  SPEAKERS 

The  mind  does  not  readily  grasp  generalities,  and 
men's  passions  and  sympathies  are  not  usually 
aroused  by  stating  a  bare  fact.  The  outstanding 
incidents  must  be  related.  Hence  the  phrase,  "har- 
rowing details."  But  on  some  occasions  a  pregnant 
sentence  is  more  powerful  than  a  detailed  story.  It 
all  depends  on  the  occasion  and  the  sentence.  The 
coining  of  phrases  is  a  gift,  but  under  the  stress  of 
emotion  quite  ordinary  people  sometimes  exhibit 
remarkable  powers  in  that  direction.  An  oblique 
statement  is  often  more  effective  than  a  direct  one. 

Shakespeare  thoroughly  appreciated  the  arts  of 
rhetoric.  Even  a  schoolboy  understands  and  ad- 
mires the  skill  with  which  Marc  Antony  stirs  up  the 
feelings  of  the  Romans ;  the  crafty  way  in  which  he 
approaches  the  subject;  his  studied  moderation  at 
the  commencement  (a  common  rhetorical  trick) ; 
the  way  in  which,  apparently  against  his  will,  his 
passions  are  gradually  inflamed  as  he  works  up  his 
denunciation  of  the  assassins.  And  yet  we  all  know 
that  had  we  been  there,  with  full  knowledge  of  the 
arts  of  demagogues,  we  should  have  shared  in  the 
applause  and  joined  in  the  hunt  for  Brutus, 
Cassius,  Casca,  and  company. 

Invective,  satire,  humour,  metaphor,  etc.,  are 
oratorical  weapons  that  demand  careful  study,  but 
do  not  try  to  run  before  you  can  walk.  Eloquence, 
like  poetry,  is  a  gift.  Proceed  cautiously  when 
making  new  excursions.    First  perfect  yourself  as 

[75] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

a  ruler  of  hundreds,  and  you  can  then  promote 
yourself  to  be  a  ruler  of  thousands. 

To  be  a  success  the  speaker  must  hold  the  atten- 
tion of  his  audience.  The  skilful  use  of  the  element 
of  surprise  is  an  important  factor.  Dr.  Johnson 
says  that  the  first  purpose  of  a  writer  should  be  to 
excite  restless  and  unquenchable  curiosity,  so  as  to 
compel  the  reader  to  continue  to  the  end.  Also  a 
good  maxim  for  a  speaker!  But  even  the  ablest 
often  admit  failure  in  this  respect.  The  most  effec- 
tive surprise  is  a  happy  blend  of  the  old  with  the 
new — the  building  of  a  new  idea  on  an  old  founda- 
tion, or  the  dressing  of  an  old  truth  in  a  new  gar- 
ment. 

Disraeli  was  a  master  of  the  art — one  reason  why 
his  speeches  are  such  good  reading.  His  point  of 
view  was  vivacious  and  unexpected,  and  he  ex- 
pressed himself  in  brilliant  epigrams.  I  think  it 
was  he  who  said  that  satire  and  invective  were  the 
ornaments  of  debate.  Ornamentation,  however,  re- 
quires a  skilful  artist.  His  attack  on  Peel  in  March, 
1845,  is  not  only  a  fine  specimen  of  invective,  but  an 
example  of  how  to  excite  the  curiosity  of  the  audi- 
ence. This  is  the  speech  which  contains  the  famous 
passage : 

"He  [Peel]  never  refers  to  any  author  who  is  not 
great — Canning,  for  example.  That  is  a  name 
never  to  be  mentioned,  I  am  sure,  in  the  House  of 
Commons  without  emotion.  We  all  admire  his 
genius.  We  all  deplore  his  untimely  end;  and  we 
[70] 


MAXIMS  FOR  SPEAKERS 

all  sympathise  with  him  in  his  fierce  struggle  with 
supreme  prejudice  and  sublime  mediocrity — with 
inveterate  foes  and  with  candid  friends.  The  right 
honourable  gentleman  may  be  sure  that  a  quotation 
from  such  an  authority  will  always  tell.  Some  lines, 
for  example,  upon  friendship,  written  by  Mr.  Can- 
ning, and  quoted  by  the  right  honourable  gentle- 
man! The  theme,  the  poet,  the  speaker — what  a 
felicitous  combination!" 

In  commenting  upon  this  speech,  Mr.  Mony- 
penny  says : 

"We  have  first  the  low-level  speaking  in  no  way 
remarkable  that  makes  the  preparation;  the  grad- 
ual development  of  the  theme  of  Peel's  disregard  of 
party.  Then,  when  the  House  has  been  wrought  up 
to  a  high  pitch  of  excitement,  the  sudden  descent  by 
the  speaker,  who  is  alone  grave  and  unmoved,  to  the 
low  level  again;  the  feigned  humility  of  his  readi- 
ness to  bow  to  the  rod,  and  the  seeming  compliment 
to  Peel's  mastery  of  quotation;  Peel  nervous  and 
expectant,  the  House  still  puzzled;  the  stealthy 
approach  to  the  position  from  which  the  spring  is  to 
be  made;  the  name  which  is  the  key-word  dropped 
as  if  by  accident — 'Canning,  for  example';  Peel 
visibly  uncomfortable;  the  House  beginning  to  be 
excited;  the  drawling  allusion  to  Canning's  fierce 
struggle  with  'sublime  mediocrity' — perhaps  aimed 
at  Peel,  though  all  are  still  doubtful — and  'with 
candid — friends' — when  the  pause,  the  inflection  of 
the  speaker's  voice,  and  the  direction  of  his  glance, 

[77] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

convert  doubt  into  certainty;  and  then  the  culmi- 
nating blow,  'some  lines  upon  friendship  written  by- 
Mr.  Canning,  and  quoted  by  the  right  honourable 

gentleman';  and.  where  a  lesser  artist  would  have 
spoiled  all  by  sonic  crudity  of  comment,  only  the 
restrained,  but  mordant,  words:  'The  theme,  the 
poet,  the  speaker — what  a  felicitous  combination!' 

It  remains  to  say  a  few  words  regarding  elocu- 
tion.   Speaking  is  not  like  public  reading  or  acting. 
"There  is  as  much  eloqui  nee  in  the  tone  of  voice,  in 
the  eyes,  and  in  the  air  of  a  speaker,  as  in  his  choice 
of  words."    He  himself  is  the  character  on  the  stage. 
He  is  expressing  his  own  thoughts  in  words  selected 
by  himself,  and  if  he  wishes  to  hold  the  attention  of 
his  audience,  he  must  make  them  feel  that  he  is 
addressing  them  in  his  own  fashion.    He  must  think 
of  what  he  is  saying  and  endeavour  to  suit  the  action 
to  the  word  in  his  own  style,  whatever  it  may  be. 
If  he  tries  to  adopt  some  one  else's  style  he  will 
probably  be  a  failure.    In  short,  he  must  be  natural, 
but  must  avoid  awkward,  ungraceful  tricks.     An 
amusing  example  of  ungainliness,  and  the  penalty 
it  brought  on  a  speaker,  is  recorded  by  Francis  E. 
Leupp  in  his  "Humours  of  Congress,"  as  follows: 
"Probably  the  shortest   speech  ever  delivered   in 
Congress  was  made  by  'Ben'  Butler  of  Massachu- 
setts.   An  Ohio  member  had  fallen  afoul  of  him  one 
day,  and  poured  upon  him  a  torrent  of  abuse  which 
would  have  excited  general  indignation,  but  for  an 
unconsciously   ridiculous  gesture  with  which   the 
[78] 


MAXIMS  FOR  SPEAKERS 

orator  accompanied  almost  every  alternate  sen- 
tence ;  this  tempered  the  disgust  of  his  hearers  with 
mirth.  He  would  raise  his  arms  just  as  high  above 
his  head  as  possible,  and  then  wring  his  hands  as  if 
he  were  making  a  delirious  attempt  to  wring  them 
off.  Butler  sat  through  the  speech  with  his  eyes 
half  closed,  not  moving  a  muscle.  He  rose  when 
his  assailant  finished,  and  stood  calmly  in  the  aisle. 
After  perhaps  a  minute  of  silence,  he  began:  'Mr. 
Speaker!'  Another  impressive  pause,  and  expect- 
ancy reached  nearly  the  bursting-point.  Suddenly 
raising  his  arms,  Butler  reproduced  exactly  the 
awful  gesture  of  the  Ohio  congressman.  Then  his 
arms  fell  to  his  sides,  and  for  another  minute  he 
stood  silent. 

"  'That  is  all,  Mr.  Speaker,'  he  said,  finally,  and 
sat  down,  'I  just  wanted  to  answer  the  gentleman 
from  Ohio.'  " 

A  speaker  must  be  careful  to  enunciate  clearly 
and  to  suit  his  voice  to  the  size  of  the  audience.  Yet 
he  must  be  careful  not  to  think  of  himself,  his  de- 
livery, or  his  voice,  but  of  what  he  is  saying.  It  is  a 
good  plan,  when  you  begin,  to  look  at  the  members 
of  the  audience  farthest  away.  That  leads  you  in  a 
natural  manner  to  pitch  your  voice  in  the  right 
degree.  When  advising  a  young  actor  Sir  Henry 
Irving  remarked :  "Imagine  that  in  the  theatre  you 
have  a  pal  in  the  back  of  the  pit  or  gallery.  Let  him 
hear  every  line  you  have  to  say.  It  will  make  you 
speak  distinctly  and  correctly."     If  you  speak  in- 

[79] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

distinctly  it  is  a  good  plan  t<>  t.'ikx'  lessons,  not  in 
elocution  but  in  voice  production.     Most  speakers 

find  their  hands  an  encumbrance.     They  do  not 

know  what  to  do  with  them.  Some  grasp  the  lapels 
of  their  coat,  some  rest  the  tips  of  their  fingers  on 
the  table,  some  toy  with  their  eyeglasses.  Actors 
often  have  the  same  difficulty.  Henry  Lytton  in 
his  "Secrets  of  a  Savoyard"  tells  how  he  mentioned 
this  matter  to  Sir  W.  S.  Gilbert,  who  at  once  re- 
plied: "Cut  them  off  at  the  wrists,  and  forget 
you've  got  any  hands."  First-rate  advice,  however 
difficult  to  follow. 

The  problem  of  what  to  do  with  the  hands  is  one 
of  the  chief  causes  of  nervousness  when  speaking  in 
public.  That  is  why  speakers  who  are  accustomed 
to  speak  at  a  table  or  desk  often  fail  to  do  them- 
selves justice  when  called  upon  to  speak  upon  an 
open  platform  or  from  benches  such  as  those  in  the 
House  of  Commons.  The  real  orator  never  remains 
long  in  the  same  position.  He  continually  suits  the 
action  to  the  word  in  a  natural  way  suitable  to  his 
own  personality.  For  most  speakers  restrained 
freedom  should  be  the  watchword.  Cramped, 
nervous  gestures  are  not  attractive,  while  on  the 
other  hand  violent  declaration  is  beyond  the  scope  of 
the  ordinary  man.  To  be  effective  it  must  be  very 
well  done. 

To  sum  up : 

(1 )   If  possible,  prepare  what  you  have  to  say. 
[80] 


MAXIMS  FOR  SPEAKERS 

(2)  Suit  the  speech  to  the  occasion,  both  as  to 
length  and  matter. 

(3 )  Be  natural.  Do  not  think  of  yourself,  but  of 
what  you  are  saying.    Do  not  strive  after  effect. 

(4)  Begin  with  deliberation  and  speak  dis- 
tinctly, suiting  your  voice  to  the  size  of  the  audience. 
Do  not  forget  the  advantage  of  the  pause  to  enforce 
important  points. 

(5)  Remember  that  in  speaking,  as  in  other 
things,  a  direct  mind  and  a  clear  objective  are  in- 
valuable assets.  Do  not  be  drawn  away  by  small 
points,  and  do  not  pay  too  much  attention  to 
finesse. 


[81] 


VI:     THE  USE  OF  THE  DICTIONARY 


VI 
THE  USE  OF  THE  DICTIONARY 

With  all  thy  seeking,  wisdom  seek. 
To  learn  well  when  and  what  to  speak; 
And  let  thy  words  be  few  and  sound, 
For  life  and  death  in  words  are  found. 

— Old  Maxim. 

At  a  Washington  dinner  party  my  attention  was 
forcibly  directed  to  the  difficulty  of  defining  words 
in  common  use  at  short  notice  without  the  aid  of  a 
dictionary.  One  of  the  party,  which  consisted  of 
journalists,  offered  to  make  a  small  bet  with  each 
of  the  other  persons  present  that  he  could  not  within 
three  minutes  and  without  reference  to  a  dictionary 
write  down  a  definition  of  the  word  "time."  Most 
of  us  took  the  bet  and  we  all  lost  it.  Try  the  experi- 
ment without  reflection.  St.  Augustine  said  of 
time,  "What  is  it?  If  unasked  I  know,  if  you  ask 
me  I  know  not." 

The  truth  is  that  the  haphazard  definition  of 
words  is  no  easy  matter.  Indeed,  even  after  mature 
consideration  most  of  us  would  find  it  difficult  to 
define  many  of  the  words  we  are  using  every  day, 
to  say  nothing  of  those  with  which  we  have  merely  a 
nodding  acquaintance.     Recently  I  noticed  that 

[85] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

Mr.  W.  J.  Locke,  in  his  admirable  novel  'The 
Mountebank,"  had  launched  out  into  biological 
phraseology,  having  used  the  words  "atavism"  and 
"parthenogenesis."  As  a  matter  of  curiosity  I 
asked  several  people  who  had  read  the  book  what 
these  words  meant.  I  found  that  none  of  them 
could  give  me  any  coherent  explanation.  Indeed, 
two  of  them  had  not  even  noticed  the  words.  The 
inquiring  mind  in  such  matters  is  comparatively 
rare.  Most  people  use  a  dictionary  chiefly  for  the 
purpose  of  checking  their  spelling.  They  seldom 
consult  it  in  order  to  ascertain  the  meaning  of 
words.  Thev  think  that  thev  understand  the  mean- 
ing  of  those  they  use  themselves,  and  don't  trouble 
to  inquire  about  the  meanings  of  words  used  by 
other  people  which  they  do  not  happen  to  under- 
stand. 

Reasoning  depends  upon  the  use  of  names  or 
marks,  and  unless  we  adequately  comprehend  their 
definite  meanings  we  cannot  hope  to  reason  accu- 
rately. It  would  of  course  be  possible  to  reason 
about  things  without  naming  them,  but  this  would 
be  a  clumsy  method.  We  should  rob  ourselves  of 
the  classifications  and  enumerations  made  by  man- 
kind as  a  whole,  and  should  have  no  means  of  identi- 
fying our  own  thoughts.  Suppose  that  every  time 
I  had  occasion  to  think  of  an  object  I  had  con- 
sciously to  reassemble  all  my  ideas  concerning  it, 
what  a  burden  life  would  be!  The  use  of  a  name  or 
[86] 


THE  USE  OF  THE  DICTIONARY 

mark  brings  them  all  back  in  a  flash.  As  Professor 
Bain  says:  "Thoughts  of  themselves  are  perpet- 
ually slipping  out  of  the  field  of  immediate  mental 
vision,  but  the  name  abides  with  us  and  the  utter- 
ance of  it  restores  them  in  a  moment.  Without 
any  formal  instruction  the  language  in  which  we 
grow  up  teaches  us  all  the  common  philosophy  of 
the  age.  It  supplies  us  with  classifications  ready 
made." 

For  example,  suppose  I  want  to  draw  a  distinc- 
tion between  a  room  and  a  cupboard;  I  might 
achieve  my  purpose  by  showing  examples  of  each 
and  explaining  their  respective  uses  and  character- 
istics, but  I  can  save  myself  the  trouble  by  adopting 
the  ordinary  definitions.  This,  however,  implies 
that  I  and  the  person  with  whom  I  am  discussing 
rooms  and  cupboards  both  understand  the  mean- 
ings of  the  terms,  and  construe  them  in  the  same 
way.  Hence  the  value  of  the  dictionary  which 
defines  the  meaning  of  words,  names,  or  marks  as 
accepted  by  mankind. 

Serious  doubts  often  occur  as  to  technical  terms. 
Probably  little  short  of  £100,000  has  been  spent  in 
law  costs  with  the  object  of  deciding  what  consti- 
tutes a  drain  and  what  a  sewer,  and  even  now  I  am 
told  the  matter  is  not  free  from  doubt.  In  ordinary 
life  it  is  always  well  to  think  of  words  and  to  use 
them  in  their  dictionary  sense.  This  practice  leads 
to  continuity  of  thought  and  avoids  misunderstand- 
ings.   But  it  must  be  remembered  that  words  some- 

[87] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

times  possess  special  meanings  for  certain  purposes. 
Many  Acts  of  Parliament  contain  what  is  known 
as  a  definition  clause,  which  provides  that  for  the 
purposes  of  the  Act  certain  words  shall  be  con- 
strued in  a  certain  sense. 

Metaphysicians  have  had  prolonged  arguments 
on  the  subtle  question  whether  words  are  the  names 
of  things  themselves  or  of  our  ideas  of  things,  but 
for  practical  purposes  the  point  is  of  small  impor- 
tance. It  is,  however,  well  to  note  that  while  some 
names  imply  the  existence  of  things,  others  merely 
signify  an  idea.  Take,  for  example,  the  words  horse 
and  centaur  respectively.  The  former  indicates  a 
real  animal  with  all  its  attributes,  whatever  they  are 
in  fact,  while  the  latter  refers  to  an  imaginary  crea- 
ture whose  imaginary  qualities  depend  upon  the 
definition  of  its  name.  Crudely  put,  the  name  is  the 
animal. 

The  more  precise  you  want  to  be  the  more  words 
you  must  know,  so  as  to  be  able  to  indicate  more 
varieties  of  the  same  object  with  greater  precision. 
But  apart  from  the  regions  of  science  a  person  with 
a  comparatively  small  vocabulary,  who  thoroughly 
understands  the  signification  of  the  words  he  uses, 
and  who  knows  how  to  use  them,  is  more  effective 
than  a  person  with  a  larger  choice  of  words,  many 
of  which  he  does  not  fully  appreciate,  and  whose 
style  is  ponderous  or  involved. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  there  are  diction- 
aries and  dictionaries.    In  order  to  understand  the 
[88] 


THE  USE  OF  THE  DICTIONARY 

meaning  of  many  words  a  somewhat  elaborate  dic- 
tionary is  necessary.  Numerous  words  possess 
various  meanings,  and  the  meanings  of  words  fre- 
quently change  from  time  to  time.  To  gather  dif- 
ferent shades  of  meaning  it  is  often  necessary  to 
have  recourse  to  an  extensive  dictionary,  such  as 
the  monumental  and  still  not  quite  completed  "New 
English  Dictionary,"  which  can  be  seen  in  the  larger 
public  libraries.  With  its  wealth  of  quotations  it  is 
itself  a  library.  If  you  examine  any  page  you  will 
be  struck  by  these  facts:  (1)  The  extraordinary 
flexibility  and  diversity  of  a  large  number  of  words ; 
(2)  the  extraordinary  way  in  which  the  meanings 
of  words  have  been  varied  by  time;  and  (3)  the 
paucity  of  the  ordinary  man's  vocabulary. 

Some  time  ago  President  Wilson  caused  a  sensa- 
tion by  the  sense  in  which  he  used  the  word  per- 
adventure,  and  later  President  Harding  threw  a 
small  etymological  bombshell  by  using  the  word 
"normalcy."  Many  Americans  still  think  he  coined 
it,  but  you  will  find  it  in  "Webster."  Clarity  of 
speech  has  its  advantages,  but  the  occasional  use  of 
a  little-known  or  inadequately-appreciated  word 
seems  to  be  a  useful  method  of  attracting  attention 
to  the  utterances  of  the  great. 

No  house,  hotel,  or  ship  should  be  without  a  good 
dictionary,  but  not  necessarily  a  ponderous  one.  It 
is  an  indispensable  book.  The  possession  of  a  dic- 
tionary is  not,  however,  sufficient.  You  must  use  it. 
It  is  a  good  plan  to  look  up  every  word  you  see  or 

[89] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

hear,  the  meaning  <>f  which  you  do  not  understand. 
If  you  resolutely  follow  this  practice  you  will  in- 
crease your  knowledge  by  leaps  and  bounds.  But 
it  is  only  right  to  point  out  that  sometimes  diction- 
ary definitions  are  not  illuminating.  For  example, 
the  definition  of  "horse"  given  in  Webster's  great 
and  invaluable  New  International  Dictionary  of 
the  English  Language  which  has  recently  been 
brought  up  to  date,  is  as  follows:  "A  large  perisso- 
dactyl  ungulate  animal  domesticated  by  man  since 
a  prehistoric  period  and  used  as  a  beast  of  burden, 
or  draft  animal,  or  for  riding;  by  extension,  any 
kind  of  allied  extinct  species."  This  kind  of  defini- 
tion used  to  excite  satire,  and  Dr.  Johnson  was  one 
of  its  victims.  But  his  defence  was  easy  and  cogent. 
He  pointed  out  that,  while  it  was  desirable  to  ex- 
plain a  word  in  terms  less  abstruse  than  itself,  this 
is  often  impossible.  To  define  "horse"  satisfactorily 
you  would  have  to  use  words  too  plain  to  admit  of  a 
definition,  and  such  words  cannot  be  found.  This 
difficulty  explains  his  famous  definition  of  net- 
work; "anything  reticulated  or  decussated  with 
interstices  between  the  intersections."  Another  and 
more  amusing  example  of  the  difficulty  of  defining 
the  simplest  words  is  the  classic  story  of  Plato's 
definition  of  man  as  a  two-legged  creature  without 
feathers.  Diogenes  plucked  a  cock  and  brought  it 
into  the  Academy  saying,  "This  is  Plato's  man." 


[90] 


VII:     THE  FLY-WHEEL  OF  CIVILISA- 
TION:  IMPORTANCE  OF  HABIT 


VII 

THE  FLY-WHEEL  OF  CIVILISATION: 
IMPORTANCE  OF  HABIT 

All  habits  gather  by  unseen  degrees, 

As  brooks  make  rivers,  rivers  run  to  seas. 

To  prove  the  force  of  habit,  William  James  tells 
a  story  of  a  well-trained  soldier  who  was  walking 
across  the  barrack  square  with,  I  think,  a  pot  of 
beer  in  his  hand,  when  the  sergeant  as  a  joke  called 
out  "Attention!"  The  soldier  dropped  the  beer 
and  obeyed  the  word  of  command.  This  hardly 
seems  credible.  Nevertheless,  the  extent  to  which 
habit  rules  the  world  is  not  appreciated.  It  is  true 
that  from  time  immemorial  the  force  of  habit  has 
been  recognised  and  enshrined  in  popular  proverbs, 
but,  as  with  other  well-known  truths,  familiarity 
breeds  indifference.  Few  people  take  the  trouble 
to  examine  the  details  and  to  ascertain  the  extent 
to  which  habit  affects  their  daily  lives.  It  affects 
them  of  course  both  for  good  and  evil.  Habit,  as 
such,  is  neither  good  nor  bad.  It  may  be  a  strength 
or  it  may  be  a  weakness.  "Habit  is  the  nursery  of 
errors,"  says  Victor  Hugo,  but  it  is  just  as  true  to 
say,  with  Hazlitt,  that  "habit  is  necessary  to  give 
power";  and  Bacon  joins  both  views  in  a  single 

[93] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

sentence:  "Habit,  if  wisely  and  skilfully  formed, 
becomes  truly  a  second  nature,  as  the  common  say- 
ing is;  hut  unskilfully  and  unmethodically  directed 
it  will  he,  as  it  were,  the  ape  of  Nature,  which  imi- 
tates nothing  to  the  life,  hut  only  clumsily  and 
awkwardly." 

There  are  many  sorts  of  habit.  The  automatic 
kind,  such  as  the  way  we  walk,  the  way  we  talk,  the 
way  we  hold  ourselves,  the  way  we  speak,  the  way 
we  smile  or  scowl,  the  way  we  eat  our  food,  etc. 
These  are  partly  hereditary  and  partly  acquired  by 
imitation,  as  in  the  case  of  dialects.  But  we  know 
that  most  habits  of  this  class  can  be  formed  or 
changed  by  education.  During  the  war  we  saw 
slouching,  ungainly  men  of  thirty  turned  by  the 
drill-sergeant  into  smart  soldiers.  It  has  become 
a  truism  to  say  that  children  should  not  be  allowed 
to  contract  bad  types  of  automatic  habits.  The 
substitution  of  a  good  for  a  bad  habit  involves  not 
only  loss  of  time  in  life  but  added  nervous  strain. 
The  second  class  may  be  described  as  partly  auto- 
matic. For  example,  writing,  the  dexterity  of  the 
carpenter  or  mechanic,  or  the  remarkable  power 
acquired  by  microscopists,  referred  to  by  Herbert 
Spencer:  "To  move  the  object  under  the  miscro- 
scope  to  the  right,  the  fingers  must  move  to  the  left, 
and  to  move  it  up  they  must  move  down."  A  more 
homely  example  is  the  dexterity  acquired  by  women 
in  putting  hairpins  into  their  hair  in  front  of  a 
looking-glass.  All  the  motions  are,  of  course,  re- 
[94] 


THE  FLY-WHEEL  OF  CIVILISATION 

versed.  If  an  inexperienced  man  tried  the  experi- 
ment, he  would  probably  stick  the  hairpin  into  his 
head. 

The  third  class  consists  of  mental  habits:  con- 
centration or  non-concentration ;  tidiness  or  untidi- 
ness; observation  or  non-observation;  and  acquired 
mental  aptitude  for  particular  professions  or  busi- 
nesses. 

The  fourth  class  comprises  habits  of  life,  usually 
called  customs — such  as  the  habit  of  various  classes 
of  the  community  or  of  the  residents  in  particular 
districts  to  follow  certain  trades,  often  unfavour- 
able or  dangerous  as  compared  with  others,  and  also 
the  custom  which  most  people  have  of  continuing  to 
reside  where  their  parents  lived  before  them.  Cus- 
toms of  this  class  are  valuable,  as  they  help  to  steady 
the  world,  but  they  have  their  dangers.  A  com- 
munity unduly  shackled  by  custom  makes  no  prog- 
ress, and  revolutions  are  often  caused  by  the  fail- 
ure of  one  class  to  recognise  the  necessity  for 
changes  due  to  the  aspirations  of  other  classes. 
Without  custom  civilisation  would  fall  to  pieces, 
but  too  great  rigidity  leads  to  decay  or  upheaval. 
The  same  applies  in  commerce  and  industry.  Con- 
tinuity of  policy  is  an  asset,  whereas  slavish  ad- 
herence to  old  methods  frequently  leads  to  bank- 
ruptcy. One  of  the  most  striking  commentaries 
upon  habit  was  provided  by  Arnold  Bennett  and 
Edward  Knoblock's  play,  "Milestones,"  which  , 
should  be  performed  regularly  for  a  month  every 

[95] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

year  to  selected  audiences  of  politicians,  commercial 
men,  and  trade  union  leaders. 

If  we  consider  the  extent  to  which  habit  governs 
our  actions  we  can  recognize  the  accuracy  of  Wil- 
liam James's  description  when  he  calls  it  the  enor- 
mous fly-wheel  of  civilisation.  As  said  in  a  former 
chapter,  we  should  endeavour  to  make  our  nervous 
system  our  ally  and  not  our  enemy  by  cultivating 
useful  habits  and  passing  over  to  the  automatic  side 
of  the  brain  as  many  mental  operations  as  possible. 
The  importance  of  habit  arises  from  the  fact  that 
when  the  brain  receives  the  signal  A,  the  sequence 
B,  C,  D  and  so  on  follow  without  further  conscious 
mental  effort.  That  makes  life  easier  and  leaves 
more  time  and  energy  for  thought  and  conscious 
action. 

But,  like  most  things,  even  good  habits  have  their 
dangers.  Habit  leads  to  rigidity.  We  all  know 
the  troublesome  old  gentleman  who  is  an  intolerable 
nuisance  because  he  is  so  precise  and  regards  any 
deviation  from  his  routine  as  a  terrible  grievance. 
His  pen  must  be  in  its  place,  so  must  his  slippers; 
his  meals  must  be  served  to  the  minute,  etc.  Even 
good  habits  must  be  kept  in  order;  the  fly-wheel 
must  not  be  allowed  to  drive  the  machine.  This  is 
the  business  of  the  driver — the  mysterious  entity  we 
call  the  "ego" — the  sentient  thinking  being  within 
you  that  controls  your  destiny.  The  driver  of  the 
human  machine  must  watch  all  parts  of  his  engine, 
physical  and  mental.  Habits  have  no  eyes.  They 
[96] 


THE  FLY-WHEEL  OF  CIVILISATION 

do  not  see  the  danger  ahead.  That  is  the  driver's 
duty. 

For  example,  the  habit  of  concentration  is  valu- 
able, but  a  man  may  over-concentrate  on  business 
or  other  matters.  It  is  for  the  ego  to  see  that  bal- 
ance is  preserved.  Even  the  habit  of  personal  clean- 
liness may  be  overdone.  A  person  may  become  so 
meticulous  as  to  consider  two  baths  and  several 
washings  a  day  essential.  Here  the  ego  should 
step  in  and  exercise  its  judgment.  It  should  say, 
"You  are  making  a  fool  of  yourself.  You  are  wast- 
ing your  time.  You  are  becoming  luxurious  and 
pernickety.  Look  here,  Mr.  Habit;  you  must  cut 
down  your  appropriation  of  my  daily  time  and 
energy.  You  must  limit  your  activities  to  one  bath 
and  so  many  washings." 

Circumstances  and  customs  change,  and  we  must 
be  prepared  to  modify  our  habits  accordingly.  But 
do  not  become  an  introspectionist — a  mental  vale- 
tudinarian— always  probing  into  our  own  mind  and 
reviewing  your  habits.  Observe  other  people's 
habits  and  try  to  form  a  judgment  on  their  desir- 
ability-or  otherwise.  Unconsciously  that  will  lead 
you  to  do  the  right  thing,  or  what  you  think  is  the 
right  thing.  It  is  a  question  of  judgment  and  ob- 
servation. If  you  notice  that  a  friend  stoops,  bites 
his  nails,  lacks  concentration,  etc.,  that  will  lead  you 
almost  unconsciously  to  examine  your  own  habits 
and  to  ascertain  whether  you  suffer  from  similar 

[971 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

defects.  But  don't  run  away  with  the  idea  that 
the  same  habits  suit  every  one. 

Take  for  example  the  arrangement  of  papers. 
The  late  Lord  Halsbury  was  famed  for  the  clear- 
ness of  his  mind,  and  for  his  power  of  setting  forth 
complicated  facts  and  arguments  in  lucid  form. 
If,  however,  you  had  seen  him  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  preparing  to  deliver  judgment,  the  way  in 
which  he  handled  his  papers  must  have  reminded 
you  of  a  witch  stirring  her  cauldron.  You  would 
say  to  yourself,  "What  a  horrible  muddle  this  old 
gentleman  is  going  to  make  of  things  I"  Not  at 
all.  He  would  at  once  proceed  to  deliver,  often 
without  a  note,  a  most  lucid  judgment  expressed 
in  beautiful  language.  On  seeing  this  performance, 
a  young  man  might  well  say,  "Evidently  the  right 
way  is  to  keep  your  papers  in  a  muddle!"  We  all 
know  that  he  would  be  wrong,  and  that  tidiness 
leads  to  a  tidy  mind,  and  tidy  thinking.  He  would 
overlook  the  fact  that  Lord  Halsbury  was  an  ex- 
ceptional man,  with  vast  experience,  and  would 
forget  that  while  scaffolding  is  necessary  for  the 
construction  of  an  edifice,  it  can  be  cast  away  when 
the  building  is  constructed. 

By  dint  of  practice,  many  great  men  have  learned 
the  art  of  doing  their  tidying  in  their  minds.  It  is 
there  they  arrange  the  facts  and  arguments,  oblivi- 
ous of  the  conditions  of  the  papers  in  which  they  are 
expressed.  But  if  you  were  to  make  inquiries  you 
would  probably  find  that  in  their  early  days  they 
[98] 


THE  FLY-WHEEL  OF  CIVILISATION 

were  methodical.  The  keeping  of  papers  usually 
involves  physical  trouble.  Many  people,  as  they 
grow  older,  become  more  energetic  mentally  and 
less  physically.  They  hate  to  be  bothered  with  petty 
details,  but  their  minds  are  so  trained  that  they  can 
observe  and  classify  facts  and  arguments  with  very 
little  difficulty.  The  most  important  thing  in  life 
is  good  judgment.  The  wise  man  forms  right  habits 
in  the  right  way.  But  it  must  be  confessed  that 
there  are  many  habits  that  are  not  quite  good  which 
are  very  pleasant.  For  example,  smoking.  Prob- 
ably most  people  would  be  better  if  they  did  not 
smoke,  but  those  addicted  to  this  habit  generally 
consider  the  resulting  pleasure  outweighs  the  dis- 
advantages. We  ought  not,  however,  to  humbug 
ourselves  about  habits.  If  we  pursue  a  bad  habit 
because  we  like  it,  we  may  just  as  well  admit  that 
it  is  bad,  and  the  habit  must  be  kept  in  check,  so 
that  if  and  when  necessary  the  ego  may  seize  and 
throttle  it.  Otherwise  it  may  seize  and  throttle 
the  ego.  Or,  to  return  to  William  James's  meta- 
phor, the  fly-wheel  may  "bust"  the  machine.  As 
Cicero  says,  it  is  a  great  thing  to  know  our  own 
vices. 

Quoting  from  Professor  Bain,  William  James 
gives  three  maxims  for  acquiring  a  new  habit  or 
leaving  off  an  old  one. 

One.  We  must  take  care  to  launch  ourselves 
with  as  strong  and  decided  an  initiative  as  possible. 
He  means  that  we  must  accumulate  the  best  pos- 

[99] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

sible  conditions  to  enable  us  to  carry  out  the  resolu- 
tions determined  upon,  so  us  to  make  the  new  way 
easy.    For  example,  it'  we  want  to  give  up  smoking, 

we  must  banish  tobacco  from  the  house.  It  may, 
however,  be  noted  here  that  there  is  another  and 
more  heroic  method — viz.,  to  withstand  and  to  con- 
quer temptation  in  a  glaring  form.  When  M.  Cle- 
menceau  decided  to  abandon  smoking  in  the  inter- 
ests of  health,  he  placed  an  open  box  of  the  best 
cigars  he  could  get  on  the  table  in  front  of  him, 
and  left  it  there  for  a  fortnight,  making  up  his  mind 
firmly  that  he  would  not  touch  a  cigar.  Being  a 
man  of  strong  will,  he  "won  out,"  as  the  Americans 
say,  and  has  never  smoked  since.  I  do  not  advise 
this  method  for  ordinary  people.  Most  of  us  would 
have  found  our  fingers  stealing  towards  the  box. 

Two.  Never  suffer  an  exception  to  occur  till  the 
new  habit  is  securely  rooted  in  your  life.  Each 
lapse  is  like  letting  fall  a  ball  of  string  which  one  is 
carefully  winding  up.  A  single  slip  undoes  more 
than  many  turns  will  wind  again. 

Three.  Seize  the  first  possible  opportunity  to 
act  on  every  resolution  you  make,  and  on  every  emo- 
tional prompting  you  may  experience  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  habit  you  aspire  to  gain.  The  actual 
presence  of  the  practical  opportunity  alone  fur- 
nishes the  fulcrum  upon  which  the  lever  can  rest,  by 
means  of  which  the  moral  will  may  multiply  its 
strength  and  raise  itself  aloft.  Gestures  are  no 
good.  Actions  are  necessary. 
[100] 


VIII:     HOW  TO  THINK 


VIII 
HOW  TO  THINK 

The  mind's  the  standard  of  the  man. 

— Isaac  Watts. 

It  is   the  mind   that  makes   the  man. 

— Ovid. 

Every  one  should  study  the  principles  of  evidence 
and  reasoning.  I  refer  to  the  method  of  ascertain- 
ing and  verifying  facts  and  the  inferences  to  be 
drawn  from  them  when  ascertained.  Questions  of 
evidence  are  continually  presenting  themselves  to 
every  human  being.  Jeremy  Bentham  has  a  nice 
little  passage  about  this: 

"Domestic  management  turns  upon  evidence. 
Whether  the  leg  of  mutton  now  on  the  spit  be 
roasted  enough  is  a  question  of  evidence ;  a  question 
of  which  the  cook  is  judge.  The  meat  is  done 
enough ;  the  meat  is  not  done  enough ;  these  opposite 
facts,  the  one  positive,  the  other  negative,  are  the 
principal  facts — the  facts  sought ;  evidentiary  facts, 
i.e.,  those  on  which  the  principal  facts  depend,  the 
present  state  of  the  fire,  the  time  that  has  elapsed 
since  the  putting  down  of  the  meat,  the  state  of  the 
fire  at  different  points  during  that  length  of  time, 

[103] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

the  appearance  of  the  meat,  together  with  other 
points,  perhaps  out  of  Dumber,  the  development  of 
which  might  occupy  pages  upon  pages,  but  which 
the  cook  decides  in  the  cook's  way,  if  as  by  instinct, 
deciding  upon  evidence,  as  Monsieur  Jourdain 
talked  prose,  without  having  ever  heard  of  any  such 
word,  perhaps,  in  the  whole  course  of  her  life. 

"Questions  in  natural  philosophy,  questions  in 
natural  history,  questions  in  technology  in  all  its 
branches,  questions  in  medicine,  are  all  questions  of 
evidence.  When  we  use  the  words  observation,  ex- 
perience, and  experiment,  what  we  mean  is,  facts 
observed,  or  supposed  to  be  observed,  by  ourselves 
or  others,  either  as  they  arise  spontaneously,  or  after 
the  bodies  in  question  have  been  put,  for  the  pur- 
pose, into  a  certain  situation." 

Some  people  reason  accurately  by  nature,  but 
most  think  loosely,  except,  perhaps,  in  relation  to 
their  own  business.  There  are  different  methods 
of  improving  the  reasoning  powers.  You  can  study 
mathematics  or  formal  logic,  but  many  persons 
trained  in  these  subjects  are  poor  reasoners  con- 
cerning the  ordinary  affairs  of  life.  This  is  because 
they  do  not  try  to  use  the  implements  at  their  com- 
mand. A  youth  often  regards  mathematics  as  a 
special  subject,  dealing  with  imaginary  technical 
symbols  and  having  no  relation  to  other  subjects. 
He  does  not  consciously  apply  the  principles 
learned  to  the  ordinary  questions  of  life.  The  same 
may  be  said  in  a  less  degree  of  formal  logic.  One 
[104] 


HOW  TO  THINK 

of  the  best  methods  of  training  the  mind  is  to  study 
the  principles  of  legal  evidence. 

Burke  was  of  this  opinion.  He  described  the  law 
as  "science  which  does  more  to  quicken  and  invigor- 
ate the  understanding  than  all  the  other  kinds  of 
learning  put  together."  (He  added,  with  much 
sagacity,  that  "it  is  not  apt,  except  in  persons  very 
happily  born,  to  open  and  liberalise  the  mind  in  ex- 
actly the  same  proportion.")  Lord  Morley  is  of 
the  same  opinion.  He  once  recommended  a  study 
of  legal  methods  of  reasoning  "to  open  plain  men's 
eyes  to  the  logical  pitfalls  among  which  they  go 
stumbling  and  crashing,  when  they  think  they  are 
disputing  like  Socrates  or  reasoning  like  Newton. 
They  would  thus  see  how  a  proposition  or  an  ex- 
pression that  looks  straightforward  and  unmistak- 
able is  yet  on  examination  found  to  be  capable  of 
bearing  several  distinct  interpretations  and  mean- 
ing several  distinct  things;  how  the  same  evidence 
may  warrant  different  conclusions,  and  what  kinds 
of  evidence  carry  with  them  what  degrees  of  va- 
lidity; how  certain  sorts  of  facts  can  be  proved  in 
only  one  way,  and  certain  other  sorts  of  facts  in 
some  other  way ;  how  necessary  it  is,  before  you  set 
out,  to  know  exactly  what  it  is  you  intend  to  show, 
or  what  it  is  you  intend  to  dispute ;  how  there  may  be 
many  argumentative  objections  to  a  proposition, 
yet  the  balance  be  in  favour  of  its  adoption." 

All  this  does  not  mean  that  I  ask  you  to  go  deeply 
into  the  law,  or  to  suggest  that  in  order  to  under- 

[105] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

stand  the  values  of  evidence  you  must  make  yourself 
a  sort  of  semi-lawyer.  For  countless  centuries  Law 
Courts  have  been  schools  of  practical  reasoning 
about  practical  things.  Indeed,  in  their  very  na- 
ture, they  are  a  nursery  of  reasoning  and  a  sort 
of  analytical  laboratory  of  evidence,  and  there  is 
a  great  deal  to  be  learned  from  their  methods  by 
the  average  man. 

Of  course  there  is  no  intention  to  minimise  the 
importance  of  mathematics  and  logic  as  methods  of 
strengthening  the  reasoning  powers.  For  many 
purposes,  such  as  scientific  investigation,  they  are 
indispensable.  But  for  the  man  engaged  in  the 
ordinary  avocations  of  life  I  recommend  a  study  of 
the  rules  of  evidence,  as  they  obtain  in  the  Law 
Courts. 

One.  Because  they  relate  to  the  actual  affairs  of 
life  and  are  therefore  better  suited  than  abstractions 
for  dealing  with  everyday  problems. 

Two.  Because  logic  deals  with  the  inferences  to 
be  drawn  from  premises  which  may  be  true  or  false, 
whereas  the  lawyer  is  chiefly  concerned  in  ascer- 
taining what  the  premises,  or  to  use  another  word, 
the  facts,  really  are.  I  think  it  was  Sir  James 
Mackintosh  who  said  that  "Men  fall  into  a  thou- 
sand errors  by  reasoning  from  false  premises  to 
fifty  they  make  from  wrong  inferences  from  prem- 
ises they  employ." 

Three.    Because  it  is  easier  for  the  ordinary  man 
who  reads  only  for  relaxation  to  assimilate  them. 
[106] 


HOW  TO  THINK 

My  object,  then,  is  to  supply  the  information 
indicated  by  Lord  Morley.  In  daily  life  it  is  impos- 
sible to  apply  the  strict  legal  rules  of  evidence,  but, 
as  I  have  shown,  it  is  well  to  bear  them  in  mind. 
It  is  also  well  to  remember  that  many  people  have 
a  pernicious  habit  of  confusing  their  inferences  and 
the  facts  on  which  they  are  based.  Many  false  and 
misleading  stories  are  due  to  this.  Suppose,  for 
example,  that  Mrs.  Brown  sees  Mr.  Jones  and  Mrs. 
Smith  continually  walking  and  motoring  together. 
Unconsciously  applying  the  theory  of  probability, 
she  scents  a  scandal,  and  thereupon  tells  Mrs.  Tom- 
kins  that  Mrs.  Smith  is  too  intimate  with  Mr.  Jones. 
In  short,  Mrs.  Brown  does  not  discriminate  between 
her  facts  and  her  inferences,  which  may  be  errone- 
ous. She  does  not  tell  Mrs.  Tomkins  what  she  saw. 
She  relates  the  impression  which  she  derived  from 
what  she  saw. 

To  give  another  example  of  this  wide-spread  and 
insidious  habit.  Stewart  calls  on  Mackenzie,  whom 
he  does  not  know,  and  from  seeing  in  the  latter  s 
house  a  number  of  medical  books  wrongly  assumes 
him  to  be  a  doctor.  Stewart  is  proving  too  much. 
He  says  what  he  belives  to  be  true,  but  he  has  made 
the  blunder  of  stating  as  a  fact  what  is  only  an  in- 
ference drawn  from  facts  which  are  capable  of 
grounding  more  than  one  inference.  He  selects 
the  inference  that  appeals  to  him,  and  then  com- 
municates it  to  a  listening  world  as  a  fact.    The 

[107] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

question.  How  do  you  know?  in  a  more  polite  and 
indirect  form  is  a  useful  probe. 

Lawyers  do  not  deal  with  abstractions,  but  with 
facts — usually  interesting  in  themselves.  Apart 
from  actual  cases  it  is  amusing  to  apply  principles 
of  legal  evidence  to  literary  incidents.  Pitt-Tay- 
lor's voluminous  treatise  on  Evidence  contains  nu- 
merous references  of  this  sort.  In  discussing  cir- 
cumstantial evidence  he  points  out  how  in  "Mac- 
beth" Lenox,  Macduff,  and  the  other  chieftains 
erroneously  assumed  that  the  grooms  had  murdered 
the  King,  because  "their  hands  and  faces  were  all 
liadged  with  blood,  so  were  their  daggers  which  un- 
wiped  we  found  upon  their  pillows,"  and  next  that 
"they  were  suborned"  by  the  King's  two  sons,  who 
had  "stolen  away  and  fled."  Again,  take  Iago's 
story  of  the  handkerchief  which  goaded  Othello  to 
madness : 


Iago:  Have  you  not  sometimes  seen  a  handkerhcief,  spotted 
with   strawberries,  in  your  wife's  hand? 

Othello:     I  gave  her  such  a  one;  'twas  my  first  gift. 

Iago:  I  knew  not  that,  but  such  a  handkerchief  (I  am  sure 
it  was  your  wife's)  did  I  to-day  see  Cassio  wipe  his  beard  with. 

Othello:     If  it  be  that 

Iago:  If  it  be  that,  or  any  that  was  hers,  It  speaks  against 
her,  with  the  other  proofs. 

Othello:     Oh!  that  the  slave  had  forty  thousand  lives 

One  is  too  poor,  too  weak  for  my  revenge !  Now  do  I  see  'tis 
true. 


So,  when  Jacob  saw  Joseph's  coat  of  many  colours, 
stained  with  kid's  blood,  "he  knew  it,  and  said,  'It 

[108] 


HOW  TO  THINK 

is  my  son's  coat;  an  evil  beast  hath  devoured  him; 
Joseph  is  without  doubt  rent  in  pieces.'  "  The  stu- 
dent will  discover  the  difference  between  direct,  cir- 
cumstantial, primary,  and  secondary  evidence.  He 
will  find  that  human  reasoning  depends  upon  the 
detection  of  similarities  and  dissimilarities,  and  the 
estimation  of  probabilities.  He  will  find  that  law- 
yers do  not  draw  inferences  from  a  fact  until  it  has 
been  proved,  in  which  respect  most  people  are  con- 
stant offenders.  He  will  also  learn  that  hearsay 
evidence  is  not  to  be  trusted,  and  that  the  opinion 
of  fanatics  corresponds  with  the  apostle's  definition 
of  faith — "The  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the 
evidence  of  things  not  seen." 


[109] 


IX:    HOW  TO  JUDGE  THINGS 


IX 

HOW  TO  JUDGE  THINGS 

Who  finds  the  heifer  dead  and  bleeding  fresh, 

And  sees  fast  by  a  butcher  with  an  axe, 

But  will  suspect  'twas  he  that  made  the  slaughter? 

Who  finds  the  partridge  in  the  puttock's  nest 

But  may  imagine  how  the  bird  was  dead, 

Although  the  kite  soar  with  unbloodied  beak? 

— William   Shakespeare. 

You  would  doubtless  assume  that  the  butcher  had 
killed  the  heifer,  and  that,  notwithstanding  his  un- 
bloodied beak,  the  kite  was  the  delinquent.  But 
both  your  assumptions  might  be  wrong.  The  heifer 
might  have  been  killed  by  another  butcher,  and  the 
partridge  might  have  been  killed  by  the  kite's  mate. 
To  put  the  matter  in  legal  terms,  there  would  be 
a  prima  facie  case  against  the  butcher  or  the  kite 
requiring  strong  evidence  to  refute  it.  But  there 
is  often  the  one  fact  more  that  makes  the  difference, 
and  it  is  unwise  to  jump  to  conclusions.  However, 
as  Butler  said,  probability  is  the  guide  of  life. 

Hour  by  hour  you  are  estimating  chances  or  giv- 
ing or  taking  odds.  In  the  morning  when  you  start 
to  catch  your  train,  you  know  that  you  can  walk  to 
the  station  in  say,  ten  minutes,  and  that  the  train 
starts  in  fifteen.    The  odds  are  five  hundred  to  one 

[113] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

that  you  will  catch  it,  but  there  is  the  one  chance. 
Something  may  unexpectedly  occur  that  will  pre- 
vent you.  If  you  start  on  a  long  motor  journey  you 
assume  that  you  will  reach  your  destination  in  a 
given  time,  but  the  odds  are  much  less  because  the 
uncertain  factors  are  greater  in  number.  Every 
commercial  venture  is  based  on  probability,  and  in 
most  cases  of  disputed  fact  judges  and  juries  have 
to  decide  not  what  is  certain,  but  what  is  probable. 

There  is  a  marked  difference  between  judging 
things  of  the  past  and  things  of  the  future.  The 
necessity  for  relying  upon  probability  in  the  case 
of  doubtful  past  happenings,  is  due  to  ignorance, 
which  may  at  any  moment  be  diminished  by  fresh 
evidence.  In  the  case  of  the  future,  although  in 
many  instances  past  experience  enables  us  to  pro- 
phesy more  or  less  accurately,  yet  most  prophecies 
are  shots  in  the  dark. 

In  estimating  the  value  of  conflicting  evidence, 
you  should  assume  that  most  people  are  truthful. 
If  it  were  otherwise,  the  world  would  become  a 
huge  madhouse.  Inaccuracy  is  more  common  than 
untruthfulness,  and  exaggeration  or  the  suppres- 
sion of  awkward  facts  more  frequent  than  substan- 
tive lies.  As  Lord  Brougham  said,  "Untruthful 
witnesses  usually  interlace  reality  with  fiction,"  or 
as  Tennyson  puts  it : 

A  lie  which  is  half  a  truth 
Is  ever  the  blackest  of  lies. 

[114] 


HOW  TO  JUDGE  THINGS 

A  lie  which  is  all  a  lie 

May  be  met  and  fought  with  outright; 
But  a  lie  which  is  part  a  truth 

Is  a  harder  matter  to  fight. 

Conspiracies  to  suppress  or  pervert  the  truth  are 
common,  but  most  hard  swearing  is  done  from  a 
sense  of  partisanship.  You  should  not  lose  sight 
of  the  fact  that  human  nature  is  prone  to  take  sides. 
If  a  taxicab  has  a  collision  the  occupants  of  the  cab 
usually  side  with  the  driver,  and  the  residents  in  a 
house  usually  stand  by  one  of  their  number  involved 
in  legal  proceedings.  This  is  an  amiable  quality, 
but  such  evidence  requires  to  be  discounted.  There 
is  another  and  less  likeable  type  of  person  who 
starts  with  a  bias  against  his  own  countrymen,  his 
fellowtownsmen,  or,  generally  speaking,  those 
whom  he  might  be  expected  to  support.  As  W.  S. 
Gilbert  describes  him : 

The  idiot  who  praises  with  enthusiastic  tone 

Every  century  but  this  and  every  country  but  his  own. 

People  of  this  class  have  perverted  minds,  and  their 
evidence  demands  careful  scrutiny. 

Prejudice  is  another  fruitful  cause  of  inaccuracy. 
Most  people,  you  will  find,  are  biased  in  favour  of 
their  own  class,  and  persons  who  are  strong  advo- 
cates of  theories  or  movements  are  apt  to  manipu- 
late facts. 

Statistics  need  to  be  carefully  examined.  Take, 
for  example,  those  relating  to  drunkenness.    Official 

[115] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

figures  show  certain  rates  of  convictions  in  different 
towns,  but  nothing  is  said  regarding  the  varying 
praetiee  of  the  police  in  different  places  in  arresting 
and  charging  drunken  persons  or  of  magistrates  in 
convicting  persons  charged. 

Percentage  dodges  are  common.  Most  of  us 
know  the  story  of  the  man  who  complained  to  the 
waiter  in  an  American  restaurant  about  the  taste  of 
the  sausage  he  was  eating.  "It  seems  rather  like 
horsemeat,"  he  said.  "Yes,"  replied  the  waiter,  "we 
always  make  our  sausages  fifty-fifty  (half  and 
half)."  "What  on  earth  does  that  mean  exactly?" 
inquired  the  bewildered  and  suspicious  customer. 
"I  guess,"  said  the  waiter,  "one  horse  to  one  rabbit." 

Adopting  the  same  interesting  method,  I  may  say 
"The  ever-increasing  popularity  of  chest-expand- 
ers, and  of  Snook's  Chest  Expanders  in  particular, 
may  be  judged  from  the  remarkable  fact  that  50 
per  cent,  of  the  inhabitants  of  Bunkumville  who 
use  this  valuable  adjunct  to  health  and  personal 
beauty  wear  Snook's  Expanders,  which  are  un- 
doubtedly the  best."  That  may  be  true,  but  I  omit 
to  mention  that  only  two  persons  in  Bunkumville 
wrear  chest  expanders,  one  of  whom  is  Snooks  him- 
self. Fifty-fifty  is  correct  but  misleading  in  this 
case  also.  My  statement  contains  two  fallacies. 
One,  that  the  preponderance  of  the  Snooks  Ex- 
pander has  any  relation  to  the  growing  use  of  ex- 
panders in  general,  and,  two,  that  any  reliable  de- 
[116] 


HOW  TO  JUDGE  THINGS 

duction  can  be  drawn  from  such  inadequate  prem- 
ises. 

The  following  are  the  most  important  points  to 
be  ascertained  in  deciding  upon  the  credibility  of 
witnesses:  First,  whether  they  have  the  means  of 
gaining  correct  information;  second,  whether  they 
have  any  interest  in  concealing  the  truth  or  propa- 
gating falsehood,  and  third,  whether  they  agree 
in  their  testimony.  To  this  may  be  added  that, 
in  judging  doubtful  evidence,  care  should  be  taken 
to  ascertain  whether  collateral  facts,  proved  or  ad- 
mitted, tend  to  confirm  it.  For  example,  suppose 
A  alleges  that  he  had  an  interview  with  B  at  a 
certain  time  and  place.  B  denies  that  the  inter- 
view occurred.  C  proves  that  he  saw  A  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  alleged  place  of  meeting 
shortly  before  the  time  named  by  A.  If  C  appears 
to  be  an  honest  witness,  his  evidence  will  strengthen 
A's  case. 

Proposals  have  been  made  by  eminent  persons  for 
valuing  evidence  by  mathematical  methods,  in  the 
same  way  that  actuaries  prepare  life  insurance 
tables.  But  obviously  there  is  no  analogy  between 
the  two.  Life  insurance  tables  are  based  on  well- 
established  and  carefully  tabulated  facts.  From 
these  the  actuary  draws  certain  conclusions.  In 
the  affairs  of  ordinary  life,  or  in  the  Law  Courts, 
the  difficulty  is  to  ascertain  the  facts.  As  Laplace 
said,  "How  can  you  frame  a  mathematical  formula 

[117] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

when  you  are  dealing  with  passions,  personal  in- 
terests, and  complicated  circumstances?" 

Many  learned  people  have  devoted  themselves  to 
the  study  of  probabilities,  and  there  is  a  considerable 
literature  upon  the  subject,  the  details  of  which  are 
to  be  found  in  a  recent  book  by  Mr.  J.  M.  Keynes, 
"A  treatise  on  Probability."  Much  of  this  learn- 
ing deals  with  mathematical  expectation  in  regard 
to  games  of  chance,  life  assurance,  and  other  similar 
matters,  but  suggestions  have  been  made  for  apply- 
ing the  same  kinds  of  calculation  to  the  conduct  of 
life  by  measuring  alternative  courses  of  action.  You 
decide  by  the  measurement  of  probable  results 
whether  a  certain  step  will  lead  you  forward  on  the 
strait  and  thorny  path,  or  whether  it  will  cause  you 
to  side-step  and  go  down  the  broad  highway.  It 
is  no  part  of  my  purpose,  however,  to  deal  with 
these  various  aspects  of  probability.  My  obser- 
vations are  limited  to  probability,  as  applied  to 
judging  evidence  in  the  Law  Courts  and  in  every- 
day life. 

Serious  difficulties  arise  when  you  are  required  to 
decide  upon  alleged  facts  which  from  their  nature 
seem  improbable.  Where  does  reasonable  belief  end 
and  credulity  begin  ?  This  is  one  of  the  eternal  pro- 
blems of  humanity  by  which  we  are  constantly  con- 
fronted. Our  attitude  of  mind  in  this  respect  gov- 
erns our  daily  lives  and  our  religious  beliefs.  A 
Court  of  Law  accepts  the  established  order  of  na- 
ture at  the  date  of  the  inquiry,  but  is  ready  to 
[118] 


HOW  TO  JUDGE  THINGS 

consider  evidence  of  new  discoveries  pertinent  to  the 
issue  to  be  tried.  Suppose  that  one  hundred  years 
ago  a  witness  had  alleged  that  he  had  received  a 
message  through  the  air  from  a  place  three  thou- 
sand miles  away.  The  Court  would  not  have  ac- 
cepted such  a  statement  in  the  absence  of  over- 
whelming proof.  But  if  the  necessary  evidence 
had  been  forthcoming  the  fact  would  have  been 
recognised,  notwithstanding  its  antecedent  improb- 
ability. The  credulous  do  not  discriminate  between 
the  probable  and  the  improbable,  and  are  prone  to 
accept  romantic  stories  on  the  faith  of  inadequate 
evidence  or  statements  unworthy  to  be  described 
as  such.  Distance — in  time  or  place — adds  en- 
chantment to  the  view.  A  man  who  would  not  be- 
lieve the  story  of  an  alleged  miracle  in  his  own 
village  will  readily  accept  the  narrative  of  one  stated 
to  have  occurred  in  a  far-distant  country  hundreds 
of  years  ago. 

Instances  of  inaccurate  statements  concerning 
historical  events  are  numberless.  Several  are  col- 
lected in  Wills's  "Circumstantial  Evidence."  Lord 
Clarendon  relates  that  the  Marquess  of  Argyll  was 
condemned  to  be  hanged,  and  that  the  sentence  was 
performed  on  the  same  day.  Burnet,  Woodrow, 
and  Echard,  writers  of  good  authority  who  lived 
near  the  time,  state  that  he  was  beheaded,  and  that 
the  sentence  was  pronounced  on  Saturday  and  car- 
ried into  effect  on  the  Monday  following.  Differ- 
ent accounts  have  been  given  of  the  movements  of 

[119] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

diaries  II  after  his  flight  from  Worcester.  Some 
writers  state  that  he  embarked  at  Brighthelmstone 
and  others  at  New  Shorehani.  Some  say  that  Pym 
died  in  May,  1G43,  while  others  give  the  following 
years  as  the  date.  Clarendon  dishonestly  states  that 
Pym  died  of  a  loathsome  disease,  evidently  with 
the  idea  of  propagating  the  opinion  that  it  was  a 
mark  of  Divine  vengeance,  whereas  he  must  have 
known  that  the  corpse  was  exposed  to  public  view 
for  several  days  before  interment  in  order  to  refute 
this  calumnious  statement. 

There  is  a  general  disposition  to  attach  undue 
importance  to  the  printed  word.  People  will  credit 
anonymous  statements  in  print  which  they  would 
not  believe  if  made  verbally  by  people  whom  they 
know.  Even  printed  statements  that  are  true  are 
often  misleading,  because  they  do  not  convey  the 
right  impression.  When  you  read  the  account  of 
a  breach  of  promise  or  divorce  case  containing  a 
number  of  passionate,  well-expressed,  romantic  let- 
ters, you  insensibly  associate  with  the  story  a  fitting 
hero  and  heroine — a  handsome  man  and  a  beautiful 
woman.  Had  you  been  present  in  the  Court,  and 
had  you  seen  the  parties  and  heard  the  evidence,  you 
would  probably  have  considered  the  whole  business 
sordid  and  commonplace. 


[120] 


X:     CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 


X 

CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 

The  network  of   facts  .  .  .  may  come  to  nothing, 
on  the  other  hand  it  may  be  absolutely  convincing. 

— Lord  Coleridge 

I  have  dealt  with  the  general  laws  of  probability. 
I  turn  to  concrete  evidence  and  the  consideration 
of  its  values. 

A  fact  may  be  proved  in  two  ways,  (1)  by  the 
evidence  of  witnesses  who  can  speak  from  personal 
knowledge,  or  (2)  by  inference  from  other  facts 
satisfactorily  established.  The  former  method  of 
proof  is  called  "direct,"  the  latter  "indirect"  or 
"circumstantial." 

A  is  charged  with  murdering  B.  C  and  D  prove 
that  they  saw  A  stab  B.  This  would  be  direct  proof. 
On  the  other  hand,  suppose  that  no  eye-witness  were 
present.  The  prosecution  prove  (1)  that  A  and 
B  had  been  on  bad  terms,  (2)  that  A  had  been  heard 
to  say  that  he  would  get  his  own  back  on  B,  (3) 
that  A  had  been  seen  near  the  place  where  the 
murder  was  committed  at  about  the  time  when  it 
took  place,  (4)  that  human  blood  had  been  found 
on  A'  clothes,  (5)  that  he  had  given  a  false  account 
of  his  movements  on  the  day  in  question.    The  in- 

[123] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

ference  from  this  body  of  facts  would  be  that  A 
was  the  murderer.  This  would  he  a  case  of  indirect 
or  circumstantial  evidence. 

You  must  understand  that  although  evidence  of 
this  class  is  exclusively  associated  in  the  non-legal 
mind  with  the  administration  of  the  criminal  law  it 
is  used  quite  as  freely  and  subject  to  the  samt  rules 
in  civil  cases.  Furthermore,  many  decisions  in  the 
ordinary  affairs  of  a  man's  life  depend  upon  circum- 
stantial evidence.  Thus,  (1)  if  mother  finds  that  a 
pot  of  raspberry  jam  in  the  pantry  has  been  rifled, 
and  (2)  if  little  Willie  is  discovered  with  remnants 
of  raspberry  jam  on  his  pinafore,  and  (3)  if  no 
raspberry  jam  has  been  served  out  for  the  use  of  the 
nursery,  the  inference  is  that  little  Willie  is  the 
culprit.  Or — to  take  an  amusing  example  from 
Thoreau;  "Circumstantial  evidence  is  very  strong, 
as  when  you  find  a  trout  in  the  milk."  Therefore, 
although  we  may  have  no  special  interest  in  legal 
affairs,  it  is  well  to  understand  the  principles  which 
govern  the  valuation  of  circumstantial  evidence. 

Before  dealing  with  the  comparative  values  of 
direct  and  indirect  evidence  I  will  summarise  the 
account  of  the  trial  of  Madeline  Smith,  one  of  the 
most  romantic  and  notable  criminal  cases  of  the  last 
century.  It  is  a  good  example  of  a  prosecution 
founded  exclusively  upon  circumstantial  evidence, 
and  will  help  the  reader  to  grasp  more  readily  the 
characteristics  of  this  method  of  proof: 
[124] 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 

At  the  date  of  the  trial  in  1857  Madeline  Smith  was  aged 
twenty-one,  her  father  being  a  Glasgow  architect  of  good 
social  position.  She  was  fascinating,  well  educated,  accom- 
plished, and  popular  with  her  friends,  as  will  appear  here- 
after. She  possessed  an  ardent  temperament,  coupled  with 
remarkable  resolution  and  force  of  character.  She  was  charged 
with  the  murder  of  a  young  Frenchman,  Emile  L'Angelier, 
to  whom  she  had  been  introduced  two  years  earlier.  Their  in- 
timacy had  speedily  developed,  and  a  secret  courtship  was 
followed  by  an  illicit  amour,  begun  in  May,  1856.  Meanwhile 
Madeline's  parents  had  become  aware  of  her  relations  with 
L'Angelier,  and  had  forbidden  her  to  communicate  with  him 
on  the  ground  that  his  social  rank  was  lower  than  that  of 
the  Smith  family.  For  this,  and  other  and  better  reasons, 
they  did  not  regard  him  as  a  suitable  husband  for  their  at- 
tractive daughter. 

In  January,  1857,  Miss  Madeline's  affections  began  to  cool. 
Probably  believing  that  she  was  about  to  become  a  mother, 
she  became  engaged  to  a  man  much  older  than  herself,  but 
in  other  respects  desirable.  During  her  lovemaking  with 
L'Angelier  she  had  written  him  some  eighty  letters  of  a  pas- 
sionate and  compromising  character,  some  grossly  indecent, 
but  all  expressing  the  intensity  of  her  devotion.  They  are 
difficult  to  describe.  In  February,  1857,  she  told  L'Angelier 
of  her  altered  feelings,  and  asked  him  to  return  her  corre- 
spondence. He  declined.  He  said  she  was  his  wife,  as  per- 
haps she  was  according  to  Scotch  law.  He  threatened  to 
show  her  letters  to  her  father  and  to  her  new  lover. 

On  February  8  she  made  a  frantic  appeal  to  L'Angelier  not 
to  dishonour  her,  and  denying  the  engagement  to  the  other  man 
she  proposed  a  resumption  of  relations  with  L'Angelier.  He 
gladly  assented.  It  had  been  her  custom  on  convenient  oc- 
casions to  admit  him  to  her  father's  house  after  the  family  had 
gone  to  bed,  and,  before  his  departure,  to  make  him  coffee 
or  cocoa  early.  In  the  same  month,  February,  she  had  at- 
tempted to  buy  prussic  acid. 

L'Angelier  visited  her  on  February  11,  and  was  taken  seri- 
ously ill  on  his  return  home.  On  the  18th  Madeline  purchased 
arsenic  openly  in  her  own  name,  but  under  false  pretences 
as  to  its  intended  use.  On  the  22nd  L'Angelier  paid  her  an- 
other visit  and  was  again  taken  seriously  ill.     On  March  6 

[125] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

Madeline    purchased    still    more    arsenic.      L'Angclier    visited 
her  yi  t  again  with  tin-  same  sequel. 

Then  Bhe  writes  to  him  calling  him  to  come  to  her  once 
more.  This  letter  plainly  shows  ber  powera  as  a  correspond- 
<"t.  It  --I"  murdered  him,  what  a  terrible  commentary  on 
human  natur-  ' 

"Why.  my  beloved,  did  you  not  come  to  me?  Oh,  beloved, 
are  you  ill?  Come  to  me,  sweet  one.  I  waited  and  waited  lor 
you,  hut  you  came  not.  I  shall  wait  again  to-morrow  night 
at  the  same  hour  and  with  the  same  arrangement.  Do  come, 
sweet  love,  my  own  dear  love  of  a  sweetheart,  come  beloved 
and  clasp  me  to  your  heart.  .  .  .  Come  and  we  shall  be 
happy.     A  kiss  and  fond  love.     Adieu !  with  tender  embraces 

"Ever  believe  me  to  be  your  own  ever  dear  fond 

"Mimi." 

On  March  22  L'Angelier,  only  too  eager,  went  to  visit 
her,  returned  home  seriously  ill,  and  died  in  a  few  hours. 

She  had  purchased  still  more  arsenic  on  March  18,  and  the 
post-mortem  showed  that  death  was  due  to  this  drug,  of  which 
a  large  quantity  was  found  in  the  body.  But  Madeline's 
letters  were  her  undoing.  On  being  interrogated,  she  denied 
she  had  seen  L'Angelier  for  three  weeks  before  his  death.  The 
evidence  for  the  defence  showed  that  some  years  earlier  the 
deceased  had  spoken  about  the  use  of  arsenic,  and  had  then 
had  arsenic  in  his  possession.  It  was  also  suggested  that  Miss 
Smith  had  bought  the  drug  for  complexion  purposes.  The 
jury  found  the  verdict  "Not  Proven."  During  the  trial  the 
prisoner  exhibited  an  undaunted  and  defiant  attitude,  and 
with  perfect  composure  searched  every  corner  of  the  Court 
with  her  great  fierce  dark  eyes. 

She  afterwards  married,  had  children,  and  lived  to  be  eighty. 

I  believe  some  people  will  say  that  Madeline 
Smith  had  a  lucky  escape;  but,  a  pretty  woman  is 
often  lucky  in  Law  Courts  as  well  as  elsewhere, 
particularly  when  she  has  nerves  of  steel  and  a 
constitution  of  Scotch  granite. 
[126] 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 

If  you  carefully  examine  this  case  (there  is  a 
full  report  in  the  "Notable  British  Trials"  series), 
you  will  see  that  the  evidence  was  entirely  circum- 
stantial, and  was  built  up  on  the  motive,  the  pur- 
chases of  poison,  and  the  illnesses  of  the  deceased 
following  on  his  visits. 

The  comparative  values  of  direct  and  circum- 
stantial proof  have  been  much  discussed.  In  the 
earlier  parts  of  the  last  century,  when  the  public 
took  more  interest  in  legal  subjects  than  they  do 
now,  it  was  common  to  hear  even  working  men 
eagerly  debating  whether  murder  convictions  should 
be  allowed  exclusively  on  circumstantial  evidence. 
To-day  the  question  has  ceased  to  be  of  interest. 
It  should,  however,  be  stated  that  the  arguments 
concerning  circumstantial  evidence  were  not  all 
on  one  side.  Bentham,  who  by  his  writings  did  so 
much  to  improve  the  administration  of  the  law,  con- 
tended that  circumstantial  was  to  be  preferred  to 
direct  evidence.  The  contention  was  that  witnesses 
may  lie,  whereas  circumstances  never  do.  This 
means,  in  other  words,  that  proof  of  a  main  fact  by 
a  chain  of  subsidiary  facts  is  more  reliable  than  the 
evidence  of  witnesses  who  testify  to  the  main  fact 
of  their  own  knowledge.  Four  persons  are  in  a 
room — A,  B,  C,  and  D.  B  stabs  A,  and  conspires 
with  C  to  charge  D  with  the  crime.  If  the  con- 
spiracy is  well  devised  D  may  easily  be  convicted. 
Or  to  take  another  instance  of  the  danger  of  direct 
evidence.     Many  innocent  persons  have  suffered 

[127] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

owing  to  wrong  identification.  Mistakes  of  this 
sort  are  easily  made.  The  criminal  is  seen  by  the 
witnesses  for  a  few  minutes  only.  Later  suspicion 
falls  on  some  person  who  is  arrested  and  put  up 
for  identification.  Meanwhile  the  witnesses  have 
been  privately  questioned  by  the  police  as  to  the 
characteristics  of  the  man  who  committed  the  crime. 
Was  he  wearing  a  cap?  Had  he  a  moustache? 
Was  he  sallow-faced  ?  etc.,  etc.  These  inquiries  lead 
the  mind  insensibly  to  form  definite  in  place  of 
doubtful  conceptions,  and  when  a  person  is  pro- 
duced who  fills  the  bill  the  witnesses  are  apt  to  say 
"Thou  art  the  man." 

There  have  been  numerous  cases  of  mistaken 
identity.  One  of  the  most  notable  in  recent  years 
is  that  of  Mr.  Beck,  thus  described  in  Best  "On 
Evidence": 

"In  1877  a  man  who  called  himself  John  Smith  was  con- 
victed at  the  Old  Bailey  for  frauds  on  women.  His  methods 
were  to  introduce  himself  as  Lord  Willoughby,  a  nobleman 
of  wealth,  with  an  establishment  in  St.  John's  Wood,  and 
offer  the  position  of  mistress  to  his  victim.  He  would  then 
suggest  that  she  would  require  a  new  outfit,  write  out  an  order 
on  some  well-known  tradesman  at  whose  shop  she  was  to 
purchase  what  was  required,  and  give  her  a  cheque  on  a 
non-existing  bank,  as  the  Bank  of  London.  He  would  then 
on  some  pretext  borrow  some  article  of  jewellery,  with  which 
he  decamped.  He  was  sentenced  to  five  years'  penal  servi- 
tude, but  released  on  licence  in  April,  1881. 

"Towards  the  end  of  1894  the  police  received  complaints 
from  various  women  of  similar  frauds,  and  in  December,  1895, 
a  woman  met  Mr.  Beck  in  Victoria  Street,  and  charged  him 
with  having  robbed  her,  though  he  protested  that  he  had  never 
seen  her  before.     A   large  number  of  the  women   who   had 

[128] 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 

complained  to  the  police  were  then  given  opportunities,  in 
the  ordinary  way,  of  seeing  Mr.  Beck,  to  ascertain  whether 
they  could  identify  him  as  the  man  who  had  defrauded  them. 
Of  these  many  with  varying  degrees  of  confidence  testified 
against  him  at  the  police-court,  and  he  was  committed  for 
trial  at  the  Westminster  Police-Court,  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey 
in  March,  1896  (his  main  defence  being  that  the  real  offender 
was  the  man  convicted  in  1877,  and  that  he  was  not  that  man) 
and  sentenced  to  seven  years'  penal  servitude.  He  petitioned 
at  once,  and  frequently  afterwards,  but  without  success,  for 
a  reopening  of  the  case  on  the  ground  of  its  being  one  of 
mistaken  identity.  He  was  released  on  licence  in  1901 — and 
in  April,  1904,  was  again  arrested  on  a  charge  similar  to 
those  on  which  he  had  been  convicted  in  1896.  He  was  tried 
before  Mr.  Justice  Grantham,  and  again  convicted,  both  of 
the  offences  charged  and  of  having  been  convicted  of  similar 
offences  in  1896.  Mr.  Justice  Grantham,  however,  having 
misgivings  upon  the  case,  postponed  sentence  till  the  next 
session,  and  none  was  ever  pronounced,  as  in  the  meantime  the 
arrest  of  the  ex-convict  Smith  on  similar  charges,  based  on 
acts  committed  while  Mr.  Beck  was  in  custody,  led  to  fur- 
ther inquiries  and  the  consequent  release  and  pardon  of  Mr. 
Beck  in  respect  of  both  the  1896  and  1904  convictions.  Smith 
was  soon  afterwards  tried  before  Mr.  Justice  Phillimore,  and 
sentenced  on  September  15,  1904,  to  five  years'  penal  servi- 
tude. It  was  impossible  that  Smith  and  Mr.  Beck  could  have 
been  the  same  person,  as  Smith  was  circumcised  and  Mr.  Beck 
was  not.  Mr.  Beck  was  doubly  pardoned;  and  £5,000  com- 
pensation awarded  to  him  by  the  Treasury. 


>» 


But  notwithstanding  all  defects  in  direct  evi- 
dence, judges  very  properly  regard  it  as  superior 
to  circumstantial  evidence.  Happily  few  cases  de- 
pend exclusively  upon  direct  or  indirect  evidence. 
A  combination  of  the  two  is  usually  available.  Cir- 
cumstantial like  direct  evidence  depends  upon  the 
truthfulness  of  witnesses,  and,  in  addition,  the 
Court  is  required  to  draw  an  inference  from  the 

[129] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

facts  proved  in  order  to  arrive  at  a  decision.  If 
the  prosecution  endeavours  to  establish  by  circum- 
stantial evidence  that  A  murdered  B  the  Court  must 
not  only  satisfy  itself  that  the  facts  alleged  have 
been  proved,  but  also  that  they  justify  the  inference 
(i.e.  show)  that  A  committed  the  crime.  Cases 
based  exclusively  upon  circumstantial  evidence  are 
regarded  with  caution,  because  of  the  tendency  of 
mankind  to  form  theories,  and  when  formed  to  en- 
deavour to  support  them  by  emphasising  convenient 
facts  or  by  excluding  those  that  are  inconvenient. 
Judge  Pitt  Taylor,  in  his  remarkable  book  on  "Evi- 
dence," says: 

In  truth,  the  only  "circumstances  which  cannot  lie"  are 
those  which  necessarily  lead  to  a  certain  conclusion.  Who 
is  to  decide  on  this  necessity?  Clearly  those  who  have  also  to 
decide  on  the  fact  in  issue.  Besides,  these  very  circumstances 
must  be  proved,  like  direct  facts,  by  witnesses,  who  are  equally 
capable  with  others  of  deceiving  or  being  deceived.  In  no 
sense,  therefore,  is  it  possible  to  say  that  a  conclusion  drawn 
from  circumstantial  evidence  can  amount  to  absolute  certainty, 
or,  in  other  words,  that  circumstances  cannot  lie. 

"Uncle  Remus"  contains  a  striking  instance  of 
the  fallibility  of  circumstantial  evidence.  When 
Brer  Rabbit  stole  the  butter  intended  for  the  lunch 
of  himself  and  the  other  animals  who  were  harvest- 
ing, in  order  to  conceal  the  theft  he  smeared  some 
of  the  butter  upon  the  whiskers  of  Brer  Possum, 
who  was  sleeping  after  his  labours.  Brer  Rabbitt 
then  raised  the  hue  and  cry  that  some  one  had  stolen 
[130] 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 

the  butter.    Naturally,  suspicion  fell  on  Brer  Pos- 
sum, who  was  unjustly  convicted  of  the  crime. 

The  rules  regarding  the  credibility  of  circumstan- 
tial evidence  in  criminal  cases  are  stated  by  Best  as 
follows : 

1. — The  onus  of  proving  everything  essential  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  charge  against  the  accused  lies  on  the  prose- 
cutor. 

2. — The  evidence  must  be  such  as  to  exclude  to  a  moral  cer- 
tainty every  reasonable  doubt  of  the  guilt  of  the  accused. 

3. — In  matters  of  doubt  it  is  safer  to  acquit  than  condemn; 
for  it  is  better  that  several  guilty  persons  should  escape  than 
that  one  innocent  person  should  suffer. 

4. — There  must  be  clear  and  unequivocal  proof  of  the  corpus 
delicti,  or  body,  or  basis,  of  the  crime. 

If  a  man  is  charged  with  murder,  obviously  the 
first  question  is  whether  the  person  alleged  to  have 
been  done  to  death  is  actually  dead.  Before  you  set 
out  to  prove  that  A  murdered  B  you  must  prove 
that  B  is  dead.  The  danger  of  endeavouring  to 
prove  facts  of  this  sort  exclusively  by  circumstantial 
evidence  is  obvious.  Sir  Matthew  Hale  mentions 
an  instance  where  a  man  was  missing  for  a  consid- 
erable time  and  there  was  strong  ground  for  pre- 
suming that  another  had  murdered  him  and  con- 
sumed the  body  in  an  oven ;  the  supposed  murderer 
was  convicted,  and  executed,  after  which  the  other 
man  returned  from  sea. 

5. — The  hypothesis  of  delinquency  should  be  consistent  with 
all  the  facts  proved. 

[131] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

In  passing  from  this  subject  I  cannot  do  better 
than  quote  the  late  Lord  Coleridge's  eloquent  de- 
scription of  circumstantial  evidence:  "I  think  one 
might  describe  it  as  a  network  of  facts  cast  around 
the  accused  man.  That  network  may  be  a  mere 
gossamer  thread,  as  light  and  as  unsubstantial  as 
the  air  itself.  It  may  vanish  at  a  touch.  It  may 
be  that,  strong  as  it  is  in  part,  it  leaves  great  gaps 
and  rents  through  which  the  accused  is  entitled  to 
pass  in  safety.  It  may  be  so  close,  so  stringent,  so 
coherent  in  its  texture  that  no  efforts  on  the  part 
of  the  accused  can  break  through.  It  may  come  to 
nothing — on  the  other  hand,  it  may  be  absolutely 
convincing.  .  .  .  The  law  does  not  demand  that  you 
shall  act  upon  certainties  alone.  ...  In  our  lives, 
in  our  acts,  in  our  thoughts  we  do  not  deal  with  cer- 
tainties; we  ought  to  act  upon  just  and  reasonable 
convictions  founded  upon  just  and  reasonable 
grounds." 


[132] 


XI:    FACTS  AND  INFERENCES 


XI 
FACTS  AND  INFERENCES 

Prove  all  things;  hold  fast  that  which  is  good. 
— Epistle  to  the  Thessalonians. 

Of  the  different  sorts  of  proof,  what  lawyers  call 
"real  evidence"  is  the  most  satisfactory  and  con- 
vincing. It  is  the  evidence  afforded  by  our  senses. 
With  limitations,  "See  and  judge  for  yourself"  is 
not  a  bad  maxim.  Such  evidence  must,  however, 
be  regarded  with  caution.  In  my  last  chapter  I 
indicated  the  danger  of  describing  inferences  as 
facts.  It  is  also  a  common  error  to  mistake  infer- 
ences for  facts. 

The  Copernican  controversy  is  a  good  and  much- 
quoted  instance.  The  appearances  of  Nature  led 
people  to  assume  that  the  earth  was  stationary  and 
that  the  sun  went  round  it.  This  conclusion  or  in- 
ference they  treated  as  a  fact.  We  now  know  that 
their  assumption  was  wrong.  The  things  they  saw 
every  day  did  not  mean  what  they  thought. 

So  it  is  in  smaller  things.  All  that  glitters  is  not 
gold.  You,  an  unsophisticated  male,  may  in  your 
innocence  remark  to  your  observant  and  better- 
informed  wife  that  Mrs.  B.  has  a  wonderful  com- 

[135] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

plexion.  Your  lady  says,  "I  wonder  how  it  would 
look  after  a  shower  of  rain?"  You  both  saw  the 
same  beautiful  colouring,  but  you  drew  different 
inferences.  In  stating  that  Mrs.  15.  had  a  fine  com- 
plexion you  stated  as  a  fact  what  was  in  reality  a 
mistaken  inference  or  impression  from  certain  ob- 
served facts — colour,  texture,  and  so  on.  You  mis- 
took artificial  for  natural  bloom.  You  may  say — 
why  so  many  words  to  describe  what  we  all  call  a 
mistake?  Why  confuse  the  discussion  by  talking 
about  mistaking  inferences  for  facts?  The  answer 
is  that  if  you  wish  to  have  a  clear  perception  of 
things  you  must  acquire  the  habit  of  discriminating 
between  what  you  see  and  the  conclusions  you  draw 
from  what  vou  see. 

This  is  one  of  the  chief  merits  of  the  legal  method. 
Lawyers  are  careful  to  ascertain  what  facts  are 
proved,  and  then  what  facts  may  be  inferred  or 
presumed  from  the  proved  facts. 

A  frequent  source  of  error  is  the  habit  of  remem- 
bering and  emphasising  facts  which  favour  one  side 
of  a  question  and  overlooking,  forgetting,  or  mini- 
mising those  which  favour  the  other.  This  is  due 
in  a  great  measure  to  faulty  enumeration.  For  ex- 
ample: the  production  of  six  different  cures  by  a 
quack  doctor  would  no  doubt  secure  him  a  great 
reputation,  but  no  details  would  be  forthcoming  of 
the  hundreds  of  cases  in  which  he  had  failed. 

Another  fallacy  is  due  to  the  assumption  that 
what  holds  good  of  each  member  of  a  certain  class 
[136] 


FACTS  AND  INFERENCES 

holds  good  of  the  class  collectively.  To  give  a  sim- 
ple instance.  A  firm  makes  a  profit  by  employing 
four  travellers.  The  partners  therefore  assume  that 
as  each  traveller  is  remunerative  they  can  usefully 
increase  the  number  to  twenty  with  a  corresponding 
increase  of  profit.  But  this  may  be  erroneous.  The 
trade  available  may  suffice  for  only  four.  On  the 
other  hand,  twenty  travellers  may  produce  a  re- 
munerative turnover,  whereas  four  may  show  a  loss. 
The  man  who  ruins  himself  by  extravagance,  if  he 
thinks  at  all,  suffers  from  a  like  delusion.  He  justi- 
fies each  item  of  expense  on  the  ground  that  he  can 
afford  it,  forgetting  that  the  sum  total  will  lead  him 
into  the  bankruptcy  court. 

It  is  a  common  trick  to  bring  forward  an  irrele- 
vant object  to  support  a  doubtful  statement.  For 
instance,  Shakespeare's  Jack  Cade  claimed  to  be  the 
grandson  of  the  Earl  of  March  and  therefore  heir 
to  the  Throne.  He  alleged  that  his  father  had  been 
stolen  by  a  beggar,  and,  being  ignorant  of  his  par- 
entage, had  become  a  bricklayer  .  One  of  Cade's 
supporters  clinched  the  matter  with  the  crowd  by 
telling  them  that  the  bricklayer  had  made  a  chimney 
in  his  father's  house  and  that  the  bricks  were  there 
to  testify  it! 

Another  trick  is  to  substitute  a  different  proposi- 
tion for  the  one  of  which  proof  is  required;  e.g.,  a 
man  is  convicted  of  embezzlement,  but  many  miti- 
gating circumstances  are  brought  forward  which 
cannot  be  denied.    A  bitter  critic  may  say,  "Well, 

[137] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

but  after  all  the  man  is  a  rogue  and  there. is  an  end 
of  it."  Such  an  assertion  regarding  a  point  not  in 
dispute  is  irrelevant.  The  odium  implied  by  the 
use  of  the  word  "rogue"  excites  a  disgust  in  the 
minds  of  the  listeners  which  destroys  the  force  of 
the  mitigating  circumstances,  the  real  question  un- 
der discussion  (Whately). 

If  a  matter  is  important  it  is  well  to  write  down 
the  points  of  which  proof  is  required  and  the  parti- 
culars of  the  evidence  available  to  prove  each  point, 
indicating  which  facts  are  proved  and  which  in- 
ferred. J 

In  conversation  undue  precision  in  language  is 
regarded  as  pedantic,  but  when  dealing  with  sub- 
jects of  importance  it  is  essential  to  understand  ex- 
actly what  you  imply  by  the  words  used.  Definition 
is  the  remedy  for  ambiguity.  Most  of  us  could  not 
define  a  number  of  the  words  we  constantly  use. 
Roughly,  we  know  their  meaning,  but  we  could  not 
at  short  notice  write  down  precise  definitions. 
Make  the  experiment.  Take  words  such  as  beauty, 
civilisation,  impossibility,  certain,  capital,  rent, 
wages,  profits:  write  down  your  definitions,  and 
then  check  them  with  a  good  dictionary.  You  will 
probably  find  the  task  not  so  easy  as  it  apppears. 
If  you  use  terms  of  art  or  commerce  which  have  tra- 
ditional meanings,  be  careful  that  you  understand 
their  technical  implications.  Should  you  fail  to 
observe  this  precaution  the  words  used  may  be  held 
to  mean  what  you  did  not  intend. 
[138] 


FACTS  AND  INFERENCES 

In  legal  proceedings  the  Court  usually  insists 
upon  the  production  of  physical  objects  forming 
part  of  the  evidence,  instead  of  relying  upon  a  de- 
scription of  such  objects  by  witnesses.  Non-pro- 
duction when  unexplained  gives  rise  to  a  presump- 
tion against  the  defaulting  party.  For  instance,  a 
sweep's  boy  found  a  diamond  which  he  took  to  a 
jeweller,  who  declined  to  return  it  or  to  produce  it 
in  Court.  The  judge  told  the  jury  to  assume  that 
the  diamond  was  of  the  finest  class,  thus  giving 
the  rascally  jeweller  his  deserts.  In  larceny  cases, 
if  the  stolen  property  has  been  found,  its  produc- 
tion is  usually  required,  and  in  murder  cases  the 
lethal  instrument,  if  available,  must  be  produced. 
In  civil  proceedings,  the  Court  frequently  inspects 
samples  of  goods,  pieces  of  machinery,  etc.  All 
these  are  called  "exhibits" — the  lawyer's  term  for 
documents  or  articles  referred  to  by  witnesses.  As 
unskilled  persons  are  incapable  of  forming  a  reliable 
opinion  on  a  technical  question,  such  as  the  quality 
of  a  material,  skilled  witnesses  are  frequently  called 
to  assist  the  Court  with  explanations. 

The  best  evidence  available  by  the  party  upon 
whom  lies  the  burden  of  proof  must  be  produced. 
This  rule  chiefly  relates  to  documents.  What  is  in 
writing  must  be  proved  by  the  writing  itself,  and 
the  original  must  be  produced  unless  ( 1 )  it  has  been 
lost  or  destroyed;  (2)  production  is  physically  im- 
possible; or  (3)  the  document  is  in  possession  of 
the  opposite  party,  who  neglects  to  produce  it  after 

[139] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

receiving  notice  to  do  so.  The  original  or  best  evi- 
dence is  called  primary  evidence.  All  evidence 
falling  short  of  this  is  called  secondary.  When 
secondary  evidence  is  permissible  it  may  consist 
of  a  copy  of  the  document,  or  verbal  evidence 
as  to  its  contents.  The  necessity  for  the  rule 
that  demands  the  best  evidence  is  obvious. 
Honest  witnesses  frequently  make  mistakes  as 
to  the  contents  of  written  documents,  and  copies 
are  often  inaccurate.  Sometimes  the  inaccuracy 
is  due  to  negligence  and  sometimes  to  fraud.  In 
the  ordinary  business  of  life,  if  the  occasion  be 
important  it  is  essential  to  see  original  documents, 
more  especially  in  the  case  of  references  and  orders 
and  contracts.  It  is  a  common  trick  for  a  person 
seeking  a  situation  to  copy  out  and  re-date  an  old 
reference  so  as  to  bridge  over  an  awkward  inter- 
vening period,  and  many  frauds  have  taken  place 
owing  to  the  substitution  of  higher  or  lower  figures 
in  copies  of  orders  or  contracts  for  sale  or  purchase. 
For  example,  A  offers  B  certain  property  for,  say, 
£10,000,  alleging  that  he  (A)  gave  £8,000  for  it. 
In  support  of  this  statement  he  produces  a  copy  of 
a  contract  in  which  the  consideration  is  stated  at 
£8,000,  when  in  the  original  the  price  is  much  less. 
Reliance  on  extracts  from  speeches,  letters,  and 
other  documents  is  proverbially  dangerous.  The 
context  often  controls,  explains,  or  modifies  the 
meaning. 

The  law  makes  certain  presumptions.    That  is  to 
[140] 


FACTS  AND  INFERENCES 

say,  it  assumes  certain  things  to  be  true.  Some  of 
these  presumptions,  called  conclusive,  cannot  be 
contradicted,  while  others,  called  rebuttable,  may- 
be rebutted  or  explained  by  evidence.  For  ex- 
ample, it  is  conclusively  presumed  that  every  sane 
person  above  the  age  of  fourteen  is  acquainted  with 
the  civil  and  criminal  law;  that  every  sane  man  of 
the  age  of  discretion  contemplates  the  natural  and 
probable  consequences  of  his  acts;  that  when  hus- 
band and  wife  have  cohabited  together  during  the 
period  appropriate  to  conception,  and  no  impo- 
tency  is  proved,  the  issue  are  legitimate  although  the 
wife  may  have  been  guilty  of  acts  of  adultery  at  the 
time  in  question;  that  after  a  certain  age  (probably 
fifty-three)  women  are  incapable  of  child-bearing; 
and  that  a  child  under  seven  cannot  commit  an  in- 
dictable offence.  There  are  many  other  conclusive 
presumptions  mainly  relating  to  the  proof  of  ju- 
dicial or  official  acts,  such  as  the  registration  of 
joint-stock  companies,  bankruptcies,  etc.,  which  are 
conclusively  proved  by  the  production  of  prescribed 
official  documents. 

Conclusive  presumptions  avoid  waste  of  time  and 
simplify  judicial  proceedings.  For  instance,  if  it 
be  necessary  to  prove  the  registration  of  a  joint- 
stock  company,  there  is  obviously  no  occasion  to  do 
more  than  produce  the  registrar's  certificate  show- 
ing that  the  company  has  been  duly  registered.  The 
Court  assumes  that  the  registrar  has  satisfied  him- 
self that  all  preliminaries  to  registration  have  been 

[141] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

properly  performed.  The  presumption  that  every 
one  is  assumed  to  know  the  law  may.  however,  oc- 
casion surprise,  as.it  is  notorious  that  even  judges 
frequently  experience  difficulty,  after  laborious  in- 
vestigation, in  ascertaining  the  law  upon  a  parti- 
cular point.  The  answer  to  this  criticism  is  that  the 
presumption  in  question  is  the  basis  of  all  systems 
of  jurisprudence.  There  can  be  only  one  standard 
for  the  whole  population — viz.,  the  law,  whatever 
it  may  be.  That  is  certain  which  is  capable  of  being 
made  certain.  Doubtful  points  are  settled  by  the 
Courts.  If  a  man's  obligations  depended  upon  the 
state  of  his  acquaintance  with  the  law,  ignorance 
would  be  at  a  premium  and  dishonest  persons  would 
escape  by  lying  as  to  the  extent  of  their  information. 
Rebuttable  presumptions,  as  their  name  implies, 
are  those  which  may  be  shown  to  be  false  in  the  par- 
ticular case.  For  instance,  innocence  is  presumed 
until  guilt  is  proved  by  clear  and  sufficient  evidence. 
If  there  is  a  doubt  the  prisoner  is  entitled  to  the 
benefit  of  it.  Also  a  man  is  presumed  to  be  sane 
until  evidence  to  the  contrary  is  produced.  The 
onus  of  proving  insanity  is  on  the  party  by  whom 
it  is  alleged.  Thus,  if  a  will  is  impugned  on  the 
ground  of  the  testator's  mental  incapacity  the  bur- 
den of  proof  rests  with  the  party  contesting  the  will. 
It  will  be  noticed  that  both  conclusive  and  rebut- 
table presumptions  are  nothing  more  than  judicial 
rules  that  certain  assumptions  shall  be  made  in  the 
one  case  absolutely  and  in  the  other  subject  to  con- 
[142] 


FACTS  AND  INFERENCES 

tradiction  by  sufficient  evidence.  The  same  effect 
might  have  been  produced  had  they  been  embodied 
in  Acts  of  Parliament;  indeed,  the  whole  of  our 
statute  law  is  in  the  nature  of  presumptions  which 
must  be  enforced  by  the  Courts.  Conclusive  and 
rebuttable  presumptions  of  law  must  not  be  con- 
founded with  presumptions  of  fact,  which,  as  al- 
ready shown,  arise  in  cases  depending  upon  circum- 
stantial evidence.  A  presumption  of  fact  is  noth- 
ing more  than  an  inference  drawn  from  any  fact 
or  facts.  If  facts,  A,  B,  and  C  are  proved,  the 
Court  may  infer  fact  D.  The  celebrated  judgment 
of  King  Solomon  was  founded  on  two  presump- 
tions :  ( 1 )  That  maternal  affection  would  prevent 
a  mother  from  allowing  her  child  to  be  divided  in 
two,  and  (2)  that  the  woman  who  was  willing  to 
save  the  child  was  the  mother. 

Amongst  conclusive  presumptions  are  included 
what  lawyers  term  estoppels.  When  a  person  by 
his  words  or  conduct  represents  to  another  that  a 
certain  state  of  things  exists,  and  thus  induces  him 
to  alter  his  position,  the  person  making  the  repre- 
sentation will  be  precluded  or  estopped  from  deny- 
ing the  truth  of  the  facts  represented.  Thus  if  A 
represents  to  B  that  C  is  A's  agent  and  B  acts  on 
that  representation,  A  will  be  precluded  from  deny- 
ing the  agency. 

Those  who  desire  to  study  more  closely  the  sub- 
jects dealt  with  in  these  articles  might  read  with 
advantage  the  chapters  in  Mills  "Logic"  dealing 

[143] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

with  fallacies.  Also  the  same  sections  in  Dc  Mor- 
gan's "Logic"  and  Whately's  "Logic."     Another 

useful  hook  is  "Principles  of  Science"  by  Jevons, 
although  parts  of  it  arc  highly  technical. 

There  are  many  hooks  on  legal  evidence.  The 
larger  ones  are  Best  and  Pitt-Taylor.  A  smaller 
book  is  Phipson's  "Manual  of  the  Law  of  Evi- 
dence." Wills  on  Circumstantial  Evidence  deals 
more  particularly  with  that  branch  of  the  subject. 

A  great  part  of  the  legal  works  quoted  consists 
of  technical  matter  dealing  with  questions  of  prac- 
tice of  interest  only  to  lawyers ;  therefore  the  lay- 
reader  will  do  well  to  pick  out  the  chapters  which 
deal  with  principles.  The  first  108  pages  of  "Best" 
will  suffice  for  most  people.  Although  not  strictly 
relevant  to  the  rules  of  evidence  a  perusal  of  por- 
tions of  Pollock  or  Anson  on  "Contracts"  and  Pol- 
lock on  torts  or  wrongs  will  be  found  a  useful  guide 
to  precise  thinking. 


[144] 


XII:  HEARSAY  AND  WHAT  IS 
RELEVANT 


XII 
HEARSAY  AND  WHAT  IS  RELEVANT 

"I  believe  you  are  in  the  service  of  Mr.  Pickwick, 
the  defendant  in  this  case.  Speak  up,  if  you  please, 
Mr.  Weller." 

"I  mean  to  speak  up,  sir,"  replied  Sam.  "I  am  in 
the  service  o'  that  'ere  gen'l'man,  an*  a  wery  good 
service  it  is." 

"Little  to  do  and  plenty  to  get,  I  suppose?"  said 
Sergeant  Buzfuz,  with  jocularity. 

"Oh,  quite  enough  to  get,  sir,  as  the  soldier  said 
ven  they  ordered  him  three  hundred  and  fifty  lashes," 
replied  Sam. 

"You  must  not  tell  us  •what  the  soldier,  or  any  other 
man,  said,  sir,"  interposed  the  judge;  "it's  not  evi- 
dence." 

"Wery  good,  my  lord,"  replied  Sam. 

"Bardell  v.  Pickwick." 

I  now  turn  to  hearsay  evidence  and  necessity  of 
keeping  to  the  point  according  to  the  law  of  Eng- 
land. It  must  be  remembered  that  Scottish  differs 
from  English  law  in  many  respects. 

Mr.  Justice  Starleigh's  ruling  (in  "Bardell  v. 
Pickwick")  was  correct.  Generally  speaking,  hear- 
say, or  second-hand  evidence,  is  not  received  in  the 
Law  Courts.  Witnesses  must  speak  to  what  they 
know  of  their  own  knowledge.  Otherwise  the 
Court  would  be  required  to  act  on  the  evidence  of 

[147] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

witnesses  not  under  oath  and  not  subject  to  cross- 
examination.  Other  reasons  are  that  the  admission 
of  hearsay  would  open  the  door  to  fraud  and  spin 
out  trials  to  an  unconscionable  length. 

Let  us  take  a  typical  case.  A  is  charged  with 
murdering  his  wife  by  putting  poison  in  her  tea.  B, 
one  of  the  witnesses,  says  C  told  him,  a  month  after 
the  alleged  murder,  that  he  had  seen  A  pour  poison 
out  of  a  bottle  into  the  teapot.  That  would  not  be 
evidence  against  A,  and  in  a  well-conducted  trial 
B  would  not  be  allowed  to  make  such  a  statement. 
The  rule  extends  to  written  as  well  as  to  verbal 
statements.  A  letter  from  C  to  B  stating  that  he, 
C,  had  seen  the  prisoner  dope  the  teapot  would  not 
be  evidence  any  more  than  C's  verbal  statement. 
"Hearsay  conduct"  also  is  inadmissible.  The  opin- 
ion of  a  person  not  called  as  a  witness  cannot  be 
proved  by  describing  what  he  did.  For  example, 
the  question  in  one  case  was  whether  a  ship  was  sea- 
worthy. A  deceased  captain,  after  examining  the 
ship  had  embarked  in  her  with  his  family.  The 
Court  held  that  this  was  not  evidence  of  seaworthi- 
ness. This  extension  of  the  rule  is  open  to  serious 
criticism.  There  is  a  marked  difference  between 
proof  of  conduct  and  second-hand  statements.  The 
latter  are  open  to  all  sorts  of  doubts,  but  the  former 
are  definite  facts  from  which  the  Court  can  draw 
its  own  inferences. 

There  are,  however,  many  exceptions  to  the  rule: 
(1)    Statements  forming  part  of  what  lawyers 
[148] 


HEARSAY  AND  WHAT  IS  RELEVANT 

call  the  res  gestce  are  admissible.  The  res  gestae 
may  be  defined  as  the  transaction,  the  subject  of  the 
inquiry,  and  the  facts  and  circumstances  intimately 
connected  with  ft.  But  such  statements  are  only 
admitted  as  evidence  that  they  were  made,  not  as 
proving  the  truth  of  what  was  stated.  For  instance, 
A  stabs  B  in  the  presence  of  C  and  D.  C,  giving 
evidence,  relates  the  story  and  says  that  after  the 
fatal  blow  D,  now  dead,  said  to  A,  "Good  God!  you 
have  killed  him." 

The  statement  could  be  given  in  evidence  as  part 
of  the  transaction,  but  not  as  proof  of  the  fact  that 
A  killed  B,  although  no  doubt  the  effect  of  admit- 
ting it  would  be  to  influence  the  jury  in  the  direction 
of  believing  that  he  did. 

In  cross-examination,  where  a  greater  latitude  is 
allowed  than  when  examining-in-chief,  questions 
may  be  put  which  elicit  hearsay  evidence,  but  such 
statements  are  inadmissible  as  proof  of  the  facts 
to  which  they  refer,  and  it  is  the  practice  of  the 
judges  to  warn  juries  accordingly. 

(2)  Declarations  by  deceased  persons  against 
their  own  interests  are  admitted.  For  example,  if 
A  enters  in  his  diary  a  note  that  he  owes  B  one 
hundred  pounds,  and  dies  later  on,  the  entry  would 
be  evidence  against  A's  executors  if  B  sued  for  the 
hundred  pounds. 

The  reason  for  this  rule  is  that  people  are  not  in 
the  habit  of  making  statements  contrary  to  their 
own  interests  unless   those   statements   are   true, 

[149] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  they  often  make  untrue 
statements  in  their  own  favour. 

(3)  Declarations  by  deceased  persons  in  the 
course  of  their  employment  arc  also  admissible. 
For  instance  it'  B's  Ledger  clerk  makes  an  entry 
showing  that  A  owes  B  one  hundred  pounds,  the 
entry  would  he  admissible  in  favour  of  B  if  the 
clerk  were  dead  when  the  action  was  tried. 

(4)  Declarations  by  deceased  persons  regarding 
puhlic  rights  such  as  right  of  way,  etc. 

(5)  Declarations  by  deceased  persons  regarding 
question  of  pedigree.  For  instance,  entries  in  fam- 
ily Bibles  as  to  marriages,  births,  etc.,  and  declara- 
tions by  deceased  persons  as  to  their  own  marriage 
or  that  of  their  relatives. 

(G)  Ancient  documents  are  admitted  as  evidence 
of  ancient  possession  of  property  provided  they 
were  executed  contemporaneously  with  the  transac- 
tions to  which  they  relate. 

(7)  Declarations  made  by  persons  under  the 
belief  of  their  impending  death. 

(8)  Declarations  by  a  deceased  person  as  to  his 
state  of  health  at  a  particular  time. 

Both  in  civil  and  criminal  cases  the  evidence  must 
be  relevant  to  the  issues  raised  in  the  pleadings. 
The  parties  are  not,  or  should  not  be,  allowed  to 
roam.  This  is  a  primary  outstanding  rule  of  the 
English  law  of  evidence,  and  it  is  one  which  you 
may  well  bear  in  mind  when  dealing  with  ordinary 
investigations.  Keep  to  the  point.  Consider  mat- 
[150] 


HEARSAY  AND  WHAT  IS  RELEVANT 

ters  only  directly  affecting  the  issue  in  question. 
No  doubt  it  is  often  difficult  to  discover  where  roam- 
ing begins.  This  is  shown  by  the  inordinate  length 
of  many  trials  in  the  Law  Courts.  At  the  same 
time,  lawyers  have  good  rules.  Whether  they  are 
always  observed  is  another  matter.  The  leading 
maxims  are :  "In  jure  non  remota  causa  sed  prox- 
ima  spectatur" — "In  law  the  proximate  and  not  the 
remote  cause  is  to  be  regarded" — and  "Res  inter 
alios  acta  alteri  nocere  non  debet" — "One  person 
ought  not  to  be  injured  by  the  acts  of  others  to 
which  acts  he  is  a  stranger."  Evidence  must  have 
a  reasonable  connection  with  the  main  fact  to  be 
determined.  The  parties  must  not  drag  in  remote 
subsidiary  facts  and  circumstances. 

Generally  speaking,  a  prisoner's  evil  record  can- 
not be  brought  up  against  him.  If,  however,  he 
avails  himself  of  his  option  to  give  evidence,  he  may 
be  cross-examined  as  to  character  if  he  or  his  advo- 
cate has  questioned  the  witnesses  for  the  prosecution 
with  a  view  to  establishing  his  own  good  character, 
or  has  given  evidence  thereof,  or  the  defence  is  such 
as  to  involve  imputations  upon  the  prosecutor  or  the 
witnesses  for  the  prosecution. 

There  are  also  certain  cases  in  which  evidence  of 
previous  charges  may  be  given.  Let  us  take  two 
different  examples.  (1)  A  is  charged  with  bur- 
glary and  murder.  Ten  years  before  he  had  been 
convicted  of  robbery  with  violence,  and  seven  years 
earlier  of  burglary.     These  facts  cannot  be  given 

[151] 


SOMK  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

in  evidence  against  him  unless  he  goes  Into  the  wit- 
ness-box  under  the  circumstances  above  mentioned. 
(2)  A  baby  fanner  is  charged  with  murdering  an 
infant  by  neglect  and  starvation.  The  fact  that  five 
other  children  committed  to  her  care  had  died  under 
suspicious  circumstances  during  the  preceding  two 
years  can  be  given  in  evidence.  In  case  No.  1  there 
is  no  connection  between  the  different  crimes, 
whereas  in  case  No.  2  the  deaths  of  the  six  children 
all  form  part  of  the  same  story. 

Civilisation  depends  upon  character,  credit,  and 
reputation.  You  judge  people  by  their  record.  As 
the  Bible  says,  "By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them." 
This  is  another  application  of  the  theory  of  prob- 
ability. At  the  same  time,  we  may  carry  this  prin- 
ciple too  far,  and  it  is  one  of  the  merits  of  our 
admirable  legal  system  that  a  man  cannot  be  com- 
mitted upon  evidence  of  bad  character.  The  parti- 
cular charge  against  him  must  be  proved.  On  the 
other  hand,  while  a  good  reputation  is  a  valuable 
asset,  particularly  in  time  of  stress  and  danger,  the 
law  recognises,  and  experience  shows,  that  crimes 
are  often  committed  by  unlikely  persons,  and  that 
every  one  must  be  judged  on  the  facts  of  the  par- 
ticular case. 


[152] 


XIII:    HOW  TO  FIND  THINGS  OUT 


XIII 
HOW  TO  FIND  THINGS  OUT 

Nothing  has  such  power  to  broaden  the  mind  as  the 
ability  to  investigate  systematically  and  truly  all 
that  comes  under  thy  observation  in  life. 

— Marcus  Aurelius 

No  statement  of  the  principles  of  evidence  would 
be  complete  without  a  brief  account  of  what  scien- 
tists and  logicians  term  the  inductive  method.  This 
sounds  rather  learned  and  portentous,  but  it  is 
merely  the  scientific  name  for  a  simple  mental  proc- 
ess which  even  ignorant  persons  constantly  perform, 
and  which  is  a  necessary  incident  of  life.  The  ques- 
tion is  how  you  perform  it. 

Every  one  reasons  inductively — some  con- 
sciously; some  unconsciously;  some  in  regard  to 
big  and  others  in  regard  to  small  things.  The  scien- 
tist applies  the  ordered  and  well-established  prin- 
ciples of  induction,  whereas  the  child  in  his  small 
way  arrives  at  his  conclusions  by  simpler  methods. 
Briefly  stated,  induction  consists  in  ascertaining 
general  laws  from  particular  instances.  "In  other 
words,  induction  is  a  process  by  which  we  conclude 
that  what  is  true  of  certain  individuals  of  a  class  is 
true  of  the  whole  class,  or  that  what  is  true  at  certain 

[155] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

times  will  be  true  in  similar  eircumstances  at  all 
times"  (Mill). 

Let  us  see  how  the  child  proceeds.  Finding  the 
blaze  of  the  fire  attractive,  he  reaches  out  toward  the 
pleasing  object,  and,  of  course,  burns  his  fingers. 
One  experiment  is  usually  enough.  He  comes  to 
the  conclusion  that  all  fires  burn  the  fingers  of  small 
boys.  From  an  experiment  with  one  fire  he  estab- 
lishes a  general  law  regarding  all  fires.  As  Lord 
Macaulay  says  in  his  Essay  on  Lord  Bacon,  which 
I  advise  you  to  read:  "It  [the  inductive  method] 
is  constantly  practised  by  the  most  ignorant  clown, 
by  the  most  thoughtless  schoolboy,  by  the  very  child 
at  the  breast.  That  method  leads  the  clown  to  the 
conclusion  that  if  he  sows  barley  he  shall  not  reap 
wheat.  By  that  method  the  schoolboy  learns  that 
a  cloudy  day  is  the  best  for  catching  trout.  The 
very  infant,  we  imagine,  is  led  by  induction  to  ex- 
pect milk  from  his  mother  or  nurse,  and  none  from 
his  father." 

The  scientist  proceeds  on  very  much  the  same 
lines.  He  is  faced  with  a  phenomenon  or  occurrence 
which  he  does  not  understand.  He  sets  to  work  to 
investigate  it  by  observation  and  experiment.  He 
may  thus  haphazard  discover  the  cause,  but  the  more 
usual  course  of  scientific  inquiry  is  for  the  investi- 
gator, from  experience  and  by  inference,  to  form  a 
theory  or  hypothesis — a  provisional  explanation — 
which  he  endeavours  to  verify  by  examining  all  the 
evidence  available.  Of  course,  many  theories  prove 
[156] 


HOW  TO  FIND  THINGS  OUT 

to  be  wrong.  The  celebrated  Turgot  remarked: 
"The  first  thing  is  to  invent  a  theory;  the  second 
thing  is  to  destroy  it."  Or,  shall  we  say,  riddle  it 
with  ruthless  criticism  based  not  on  one's  own  un- 
aided reflection,  but  upon  an  examination  of  the 
facts.  It  may  be  found  in  the  progress  of  the  in- 
quiry that  the  theory  with  which  the  investigator 
starts  is  wrong,  and  he  may  have  to  form  another 
which,  in  its  turn,  may  prove  to  be  fallacious.  Per- 
haps he  may  eventually  propound  a  theory  which 
can  be  supported  by  the  observed  facts. 

It  should  be  noted,  however,  that  there  is  this 
difference  between  the  inductions  of  the  child,  or 
ignorant  person,  and  those  of  the  scientific  investi- 
gator. The  former  knows  only  that  things  happen, 
while  the  latter  knows  why  they  happen.  For  in- 
stance, the  quack  knows  by  experience  jthat  a  cer- 
tain drug  acts  as  a  tonic,  but  he  does  not  know  the 
reason,  whereas  the  skilled  doctor  does.  That  is 
why  rule-of-thumb  knowledge  is  called  empirical  as 
compared  with  scientific. 

As  an  instance  of  scientific  induction  I  will 
shortly  describe  one  of  the  most  amazing  detective 
stories  of  modern  times,  the  tracing  and  conviction 
of  the  mosquito  as  the  carrier  of  malaria  and  yellow 
fever.  From  the  time  of  Hippocrates  malaria  had 
been  carefully  studied  and  ascribed  to  all  sorts  of 
causes — miasma  from  undrained  swamps,  contagion 
by  contact  with  persons  suffering  from  the  disease, 
infection  from  the  air,  etc.,  etc.    In  1880  Laveran, 

[157] 


si 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

a  French  army  surgeon,  discovered  that  malaria 
was  caused  by  a  minute  parasite  in  the  blood,  hot 
how  it  got  there  remained  a  mystery.  In  an  indefi- 
nite way  the  mosquito  had  Long  hern  associated  with 
malaria,  but  it  was  not  until  i<s(.)t  that  Sir  Patrick 
Manson,  arguing  by  analogy  from  his  previous  dis- 
coveries regarding  other  t topical  diseases,  put  for- 
ward the  theory  that  the  disease  was  transmitted  by 
the  mosquito  from  one  person  to  another.  In  1895 
this  idea  was  followed  up  by  Sir  Ronald  Ross,  who 
found  that  the  body  cavity  of  the  mosquito  of  the 
genus  Anopheles  contained  enormous  quantities  of 
malarial  parasites,  which  it  injected  through  its 
grooved  sting.  The  investigation  was  continued 
from  a  different  angle,  and  in  1898  it  was  shown 
that  if  a  mosquito  of  the  Anopheles  variety  bites 
a  person  suffering  from  malaria  and  then  bites  a 
healthy  person,  the  latter  will  develop  the  disease, 
provided  that  a  sufficient  interval  has  elapsed  to 
allow  the  parasites  to  breed  in  the  mosquito.  In 
1900  Dr.  Sambon  and  Dr.  Low,  acting  for  the  Lon- 
don School  of  Tropical  Medicine,  went  to  reside  in 
the  most  malarious  district  in  Italy  during  the  most 
dangerous  season.  Living,  between  sunrise  and 
sunset,  in  a  mosquito-proof  hut  (the  female  mos- 
quito, who  is  the  culprit,  bites  only  at  night  as  a 
rule),  they  did  not  contract  the  disease,  whereas 
the  mosquitoes  which  they  caught  and  sent  to  Lon- 
don produced  malaria  in  persons  who  submitted 
themselves  to  be  bitten  at  the  School  of  Medicine. 
[158] 


HOW  TO  FIND  THINGS  OUT 

These  experiments  were  successfully  carried  out  on 
a  larger  scale,  and  additional  proof  was  furnished 
by  segregating  all  malaria  patients  in  certain  dis- 
tricts, so  as  to  cut  off  the  mosquitoes'  source  of 
supply.  Another  method  adopted  was  to  drain  the 
swamps  frequented  by  mosquitoes.  The  result  of 
these  discoveries  has  been  in  a  great  measure  to 
stamp  out  the  disease. 

It  was  first  suggested  in  1847  that  the  mosquito 
was  responsible  for  transmitting  yellow  fever.  In 
1881  Dr.  Finlay,  of  Havana,  made  experiments  to 
test  the  truth  of  the  theory,  but  they  were  not  suc- 
cessful, because  he  used  for  inoculation  mosquitoes 
that  had  bitten  yellow  fever  patients  only  from  two 
to  five  days  earlier,  whereas  later  experiments 
proved  that  the  mosquito  is  harmless  until  twelve 
days  or  longer  after  the  biting.  During  the  occu- 
pation of  Cuba  by  the  United  States  army  in  1900 
yellow  fever  became  very  prevalent,  the  mosquito 
theory  was  further  investigated,  and  Drs.  Lazear 
and  Caroll  allowed  themselves  to  be  bitten  by  mos- 
quitoes which  had  become  infected  by  biting  yellow- 
fever  patients.  Dr.  Lazear  died  as  a  result.  Dr. 
Caroll  was  attacked,  but  recovered.  After  Lazear's 
death  nine  volunteers  offered  themselves  for  experi- 
ment, and  with  the  utmost  fearlessness,  clad  only  in 
their  night-shirts,  quietly  lay  down  in  a  room  con- 
taining infected  mosquitoes  and  submitted  to  their 
attacks — a  wonderful  exhibition  of  courage. 
Nearly  all  of  them  were  smitten  with  the  disease. 

[159] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

Tests  were  also  made  to  prove  whether  yellow  fever 
was  a  contagious  disease.  Seven  volunteers  entered 
a  room  carefully  guarded  against  the  entrance  of 
mosquitoes.  It  was  supplied  with  a  large  quantity 
of  bed  clothing,  wearing  apparel,  and  night  clothing 
taken  from  the  beds  and  persons  of  patients  who 
had  died  of  yellow  fever.  For  twenty  consecutive 
nights  the  volunteers  handled,  wore,  and  slept  in  the 
contaminated  clothing,  although  the  stench  was  so 
offensive  as  to  be  almost  unbearable.  They  emerged 
from  the  ordeal  in  perfect  health,  proving,  beyond 
possibility  of  dispute,  that  the  disease  was  not  con- 
tagious. The  result  of  these  experiments  was  to 
show  that  the  mosquito  (Stegomifia  variety)  is  re- 
sponsible for  the  transmission  of  yellow  fever. 

Now  let  us  examine  the  method  applied  in  mak- 
ing these  wonderful  discoveries.  First  we  find  that 
experience  suggested  the  mosquito  as  a  possible 
source  of  infection.  Here  we  have  the  theory  or 
hypothesis.  Second,  in  the  case  of  malaria,  we  have 
the  investigation  showing  that  the  body  of  the  insect 
contains  the  parasite.  Third  we  have  the  verifica- 
tion of  the  theory  by  these  facts : 

(a)  That  persons  bitten  by  mosquitoes  develop 
the  disease,  whereas  persons  who  are  not  bitten 
escape ; 

(b)  That  if  the  mosquito  is  prevented  from 
reaching  infected  persons  its  sting  is  rendered  harm- 
less ; 

[160] 


HOW  TO  FIND  THINGS  OUT 

\c)  That  the  destruction  of  the  mosquito  abol- 
ishes the  disease. 

The  result  of  investigations  regarding  particular 
instances  is  to  establish  the  general  law  that  malaria 
and  yellow  fever  are  transmitted  by  the  mosquito. 
Numerous  other  instances  could  be  given.  Almost 
all  scientific  discoveries  have  proceeded  on  these 
lines:  experience  and  knowledge  leading  to  an 
hypothesis,  followed  by  verification. 


[161] 


XIV:    THE  LAWS  OF  THOUGHT 


XIV 
THE  LAWS  OF  THOUGHT 

Mind  is   the  beginning  of  knowledge. 

— Aristotle. 

The  method  described  in  my  last  chapter  seems 
simple  and  commonplace.  It  is  difficult  to  realise 
that  for  centuries  the  inductive  method  was  neg- 
lected by  the  learned  ones  of  the  earth.  They  were 
so  much  engrossed  in  logical  disputation  that  they 
thought  more  about  arguments  than  facts.  In 
everyday  life  people  adopted  more  rational  meth- 
ods, but  many  popular  superstitions  and  fallacies 
were  and  are  due  to  the  neglect  of  investigation  and 
experiment.  Two  great  Englishmen  took  a  leading 
part  in  demonstrating  the  necessity  for  true  reason- 
ing— Roger  Bacon  (thirteenth  century)  and  Lord 
Bacon  (early  seventeenth  century).  Both  taught 
that  knowledge  is  based  on  experience  and  experi- 
ment. They  said :  "If  you  want  to  know  what  is 
on  the  other  side  of  a  wall,  go  and  look.  Don't 
speculate  about  it." 

As  Lord  Macaulay  says  in  one  of  his  essays:  "By 
stimulating  men  to  the  discovery  of  new  truth,  Lord 
Bacon  stimulated  them  to  employ  the  inductive 

[165] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTKK 

method,  the  only  method,  even  the  ancient  philos- 
ophers and  the  schoolmen  themselves  being  judges, 

by  which  new  truth  can  be  discovered.  By  stimulat- 
ing men  to  the  discovery  of  useful  truth,  he  fur- 
nished them  with  a  motive  to  perform  the  inductive 
process  well  and  carefully.  His  predecessors  had 
been,  in  his  phrase,  not  interpreters,  but  anticipators 
of  nature.  They  had  been  content  with  the  first 
principles  at  which  they  had  arrived  by  the  most 
scanty  and  slovenly  induction.  And  why  was  this? 
It  was,  we  conceive,  because  their  philosophy  pro- 
posed to  itself  no  practical  end,  because  it  was 
merely  an  exercise  of  the  mind.  A  man  who  wants 
to  contrive  a  new  machine  or  a  new  medicine  has  a 
strong  motive  to  observe  accurately  and  patiently, 
and  to  try  experiment  after  experiment.  But  a 
man  who  merely  wants  a  theme  for  disputation  or 
declamation  has  no  such  motive.  He  is  therefore 
content  with  premises  grounded  on  assumption,  or 
on  the  most  scanty  and  hasty  induction.  Thus,  we 
conceive,  the  schoolmen  acted.  On  their  foolish 
premises  they  often  argued  with  great  ability;  and 
as  their  object  was  assensum  s-ubjugare,  non  res,  to 
be  victorious  in  controversy,  not  to  be  victorious 
over  nature,  they  were  consistent.  For  just  as 
much  logical  skill  could  be  shown  in  reasoning  on 
false  as  on  true  premises.  But  the  followers  of  the 
new  philosophy,  proposing  to  themselves  the  dis- 
covery of  useful  truth  as  their  object,  must  have 
altogether  failed  of  attaining  that  object  if  they  had 
[166] 


THE  LAWS  OF  THOUGHT 

been  content  to  build  theories  on  superficial  induc- 
tion." 

It  must,  however,  be  remembered  that  Bacon 
did  not  discover  the  inductive  method,  as  many  peo- 
ple think.  He  only  pointed  out  in  an  arresting  way 
the  urgent  need  for  its  use.  Again,  to  quote  Lord 
Macaulay:  "Aristotle  had  long  before  pointed  out 
the  absurdity  of  supposing  that  syllogistic  reason- 
ing could  ever  conduct  men  to  the  discovery  of  any 
new  principle,  had  shown  that  such  discoveries  must 
be  made  by  induction,  and  by  induction  alone,  and 
had  given  the  history  of  the  inductive  process,  con- 
cisely indeed,  but  with  great  perspicuity  and  pre- 


cision." 


When,  however,  you  come  to  examine  more  mi- 
nutely the  process  of  the  inductive  method,  you  will 
find  that  there  is  much  food  for  thought.  First, 
it  is  difficult  to  appreciate  that  reasoning  depends 
upon  the  detection  of  similarities  and  differences. 
When  you  hear  a  bell  ringing  in  the  street  on  a  Sun- 
day afternoon,  you  detect  the  muffin-man,  because 
the  sound  is  similar  to  that  which  you  heard  on 
previous  occasions  when  you  saw  the  said  muffin- 
man  ring  his  bell.  If  you  meet  your  brother  you 
recognise  him  because  you  see  the  same  form  that 
you  have  always  known  as  your  brother. 

So  it  is  with  all  reasoning.  Consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously, we  are  for  ever  making  comparisons.  The 
trained  mind  perceives  similarities  and  differences 
which  are  not  observed  by  the  untrained.    This  ap- 

[167] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

plies  both  to  physical  objects  and  to  ideas.  The 
expert  recognises  that  certain  cloth  complies  with  B 
certain  standard  because  his  trained  eve  detects  dif- 
ferences  imperceptible  to  the  untrained  eye  when 
comparing  it  with  a  cloth  of  slightly  inferior  quality. 

Then,  we  do  not  always  remember  with  sufficient 
vividness  that  things — both  mental  and  physical — 
which  are  equal  to  the  same  thing  are  equal  to  one 
another.  In  short,  if  A  is  equal  to  B,  and  B  to  C, 
A  must  be  equal  also  to  C. 

Also,  we  are  apt  to  forget  that,  for  the  purposes 
of  strict  reasoning  and  apprehension,  a  thing  must 
either  be  or  not  be,  which  means  that  nothing  can 
have,  at  the  same  time  and  in  the  same  place,  con- 
tradictory and  inconsistent  qualities.  As  Aristotle 
said,  there  can  be  no  mean  between  opposite  asser- 
tions, we  must  either  affirm  or  deny.  For  example, 
a  door  cannot  be  shut  and  open  at  the  same  time ;  a 
line  must  be  either  straight  or  not  straight ;  an  action 
must  be  either  virtuous  or  not  virtuous.  In  the 
affairs  of  common  life,  however,  we  are  seldom  con- 
cerned to  place  an  object  or  an  idea  in  a  rigid  cate- 
gory. Our  attention  is  usually  addressed  to  ascer- 
taining and  describing  the  facts,  not  by  reference  to 
categories,  but  as  they  are.  We  say,  for  instance, 
the  door  was  nearly  shut;  the  line  was  not  quite 
straight ;  the  action  was  not  quite  fair,  etc.  At  the 
same  time,  it  is  well  to  have  this  rule  in  mind,  as 
precision  is  the  basis  of  all  reasoning.  When  argu- 
[168] 


THE  LAWS  OF  THOUGHT 

ing  about  less  obvious  matters  people  frequently  put 
forward  contradictory  propositions. 

The  comparison  of  ideas  or  things  of  the  mind  is 
often  a  matter  of  extreme  difficulty.  Let  us  take  a 
common  example.  You  say  every  citizen  has  the 
right  to  exercise  such  a  measure  of  freedom  as  can 
be  exercised  without  interfering  with  the  enjoyment 
of  a  similar  measure  of  freedom  by  other  citizens. 
This  definition  of  liberty  seems  clear  until  you  seek 
to  apply  it  to  particular  instances.  We  will  deal 
with  two  suppositions.  (1)  Smith,  Jones,  Brown 
and  Robinson,  the  local  bakers,  being  earnest,  enter- 
prising business  men,  form  a  ring  to  raise  the  price 
of  bread.  The  whole  town  is  in  an  uproar.  The 
bakers  are  described  as  rascally  profiteers  and  pro- 
posals are  made  to  control  the  bread  trade.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  bakers  say  that  they  are  public  bene- 
factors who  have  long  worked  for  inadequate 
profits,  that  their  prices  are  reasonable,  and  that  if 
the  public  are  dissatisfied  they  can  bake  their  own 
bread.  (2)  The  sewermen  employed  by  the  Local 
Authority  strike  for  higher  wages.  Here  again  the 
townspeople  are  furious. 

The  strikers  are  hotly  charged  with  holding  up 
the  community;  the  public  suddenly  discover  that 
flushing  sewers  is  a  most  salubrious  occupation,  and 
that,  comparatively  speaking,  the  sewer-men  are 
extremely  well  paid.  On  the  other  hand,  the  strik- 
ers say  that  they  are  underpaid  and  over-worked, 
that  their  occupation  is  dangerous  and  unpleasant, 

[169] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

and  that  they  arc  under  do  obligation  to  work  un- 
less they  think  fit.  Now,  when  yon  come  to  apply 
your  definition  to  these  two  cases,  you  will  find 
several  different  opinions  as  to  its  application.  Mr. 
A.  will  say  that  both  bakers  and  sewer-men  are 
within  their  rights,  it  being  open  to  all  other  mem- 
bers of  the  community  to  act  in  the  same  way.  Mr. 
15.  will  say  that  both  parties  are  in  the  wrong;  that 
the  bakers  should  be  compelled  to  sell  their  bread 
at  a  reasonable  price  and  that  the  sewer-men  should 
be  sent  back  to  the  sewers,  if  necessary,  at  the  point 
of  the  bayonet.  Mr.  C.  will  say  that  the  bakers  are 
justified  in  charging  what  they  like,  but  that  the 
case  of  the  sewer-men  is  different.  Mr.  D.  will  back 
the  sewer-men  and  down  the  bakers.  The  bakers 
themselves  will  very  likely  condemn  the  sewer-men 
and  the  sewer-men  the  bakers.  Mr.  E.,  who  is 
probably  right,  will  decline  to  argue  until  you  define 
what  you  mean  by  freedom.  Define  your  terms  and 
then  see  whether  the  particular  instance  is  covered 
by  the  general  rule. 

John  Stuart  Mill  gave  five  rules  for  inductive 
reasoning,  which  state  in  precise  but  somewhat  in- 
volved terms  the  ordinary  methods  adopted  by  per- 
sons who  reason  well  when  investigating  a  phenome- 
non or  occurrence  which  they  do  not  understand. 
These  rules  apply  not  only  to  scientific  investigation 
but  to  the  common  problems  of  life. 

To  take  the  first  rule,  called  "The  Method  of 
Agreement":  "If  two  or  more  instances  of  the 
[170] 


THE  LAWS  OF  THOUGHT 

phenomenon  under  investigation  have  only  one  cir- 
cumstance in  common,  the  circumstance  in  which 
alone  all  the  instances  agree  is  the  cause  (or  effect) 
of  the  given  phenomenon."  In  simpler  language 
this  means  that  when  you  find  that  several  different 
things  or  sets  of  circumstances  exhibit  the  same  co- 
nundrum you  should  inquire  in  what  respects  these 
things  or  sets  of  circumstances  agree  or  differ,  be- 
cause it  is  obvious  that  if  they  agree  in  only  one 
particular,  that  is  likely  to  be  the  cause  of  the  conun- 
drum. 

Jevons  gives  the  following  example:  "Bright 
prismatic  colours  are  seen  on  bubbles,  on  films  of  tar 
floating  upon  water,  on  thin  plates  of  mica,  as  also 
on  cracks  in  glass  or  between  two  pieces  of  glass 
pressed  together.  On  examining  all  such  cases  they 
seem  to  agree  in  nothing  but  the  presence  of  a  very 
thin  layer  or  plate,  and  it  appears  to  make  no  ap- 
preciable difference  of  what  kind  of  matter,  solid, 
liquid  or  gaseous,  the  plate  is  made.  Hence  we 
conclude  that  such  colours  are  caused  merely  by  the 
thinness  of  the  plates,  and  this  conclusion  is  proved 
true  by  the  theory  of  the  interference  of  light." 

The  second  rule,  called  "The  Method  of  Differ- 
ence," is  as  follows : 

"If  an  instance  in  which  the  phenomenon  under 
investigation  occurs,  and  an  instance  in  which  it 
does  not  occur,  have  every  circumstance  in  common 
save  one,  that  one  occurring  only  in  the  former,  the 
circumstance  in  which  alone  the  two  instances  differ 

[171] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

is  the  effect  or  the  cause,  or  an  indispensable  part 
of  the  cause,  of  the  phenomenon." 

This  means,  in  other  words,  that  if  you  see  two 
things  or  sets  of  circumstances  exactly  the  same  ex- 
cept in  one  particular,  and  if  the  conundrum  is  dis- 
played by  the  thing  or  set  of  circumstances  that  pos- 
sesses this  characteristic,  you  may  assume  that  it  is 
this  difference  that  causes  the  conundrum. 

Jevons  as  an  example  gives  the  formation  of  dew: 
"If  on  a  clear,  calm  night  a  sheet  or  other  covering 
be  stretched  a  foot  or  two  above  the  earth,  so  as  to 
screen  the  ground  below  from  the  open  sky,  dew  will 
be  found  on  the  grass  around  the  screen,  but  not 
beneath  it.  As  the  temperature  and  moistness  of 
the  air,  and  other  circumstances  are  exactly  the 
same,  the  open  sky  must  be  an  indispensable  ante- 
cedent to  dew." 

By  the  way,  compare  Gideon's  experiences 
(Judges  vi.  37  et  seq.). 

The  third  rule,  called  "The  Joint  Method  of 
Agreement  and  Difference,"  is  a  combination  of 
Nos.  1  and  2,  chiefly  for  use  in  scientific  investiga- 
tion. 

The  fourth  rule,  called  "The  Method  of  Resi- 
dues," is  comparatively  simple.  It  states  in  effect 
that  if  you  are  satisfied  that  part  of  a  phenomenon 
is  due  to  certain  causes,  you  may  rest  assured  that 
the  remaining  part  is  due  to  the  other  causes  which 
you  have  traced. 

The  fifth  rule  says  that  when  phenomena  vary  in 
[172] 


THE  LAWS  OF  THOUGHT 

unison  you  may  assume  that  they  react  upon  each 
other,  or  are  due  to  the  same  cause.  For  example, 
friction  causes  heat — less  friction,  less  heat — more 
friction,  more  heat.  The  phenomenon  "heat"  varies 
in  proportion  with  the  phenomenon  "friction."  Or, 
to  take  another  example,  strike  a  bell  in  a  complete 
vacuum — no  sound.  Strike  it  in  very  little  air  in 
the  receiver  of  an  air-pump  and  a  faint  sound  is 
heard,  which  increases  or  diminishes  every  time  we 
increase  or  diminish  the  density  of  the  air.  In  this 
case  the  phenomena  are  "sound"  and  "air" — more 
air,  more  sound — less  air,  less  sound. 

If  you  wish  to  pursue  this  subject,  I  advise  you 
to  read  the  sections  on  induction  in  Jevons'  "Les- 
sons in  Logic,"  Mill's  "Logic,"  Vol.  I,  and  in 
Whateley's  "Logic."  There  are  numbers  of  other 
books.  Bradley,  Bosanquet,  etc.  Joseph's  "Logic" 
is  one  of  the  best.  You  will  find  that  logicians,  like 
other  experts,  frequently  differ. 

You  must  not  confuse  inductive  reasoning  with 
formal  logic,  the  syllogism,  etc.  The  syllogism  is  a 
formula  invented  by  logicians  and  dating  back  to 
period  before  Aristotle.  "It  may  be  defined  as  an 
act  of  thought  by  which,  from  two  given  proposi- 
tions, we  proceed  to  a  third  proposition,  the  truth 
of  which  necessarily  follows  from  the  truth  of  these 
given  propositions"  (Jevons).  To  take  a  rough 
example :  All  men  are  liars.  Jones  is  a  man,  there- 
fore Jones  is  a  liar.  This,  on  the  face  of  it,  is  un- 
answerable ;  but  a  moment's  reflection  will  show  that 

[173] 


/ 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

it  may  be  humbug,  because  the  inference  that 
Jones  is  a  liar  depends  on  the  implied  assumption, 

which  may  be  true  or  untrue,  that  nil  men  are  liars. 
In  short,  formal  logic  does  not  teach  how  to  observe 
facts,  but  only  how  to  argue  from  facts,  which, 
though  agreed  upon  for  the  purposes  of  the  argu- 
ment, may  in  themselves  be  inaccurate.  Forma) 
logic  tends  to  produce  an  acute  mind,  but  life's  prob- 
lems are  not  settled  by  splitting  hairs.  A  man  may 
be  so  sharp  that  he  cuts  himself.  JVIacaulay  went  so 
far  as  to  say:  "The  knowledge  of  the  theory  of 
logic  has  no  tendency  whatever  to  make  men  good 
reasoners." 

We  live  in  a  world  of  realities.  Therefore  it  is 
best  to  reason  about  actual,  vital  facts,  interesting 
in  themselves  whether  they  be  the  facts  of  everyday 
life,  facts  in  the  Law  Courts,  or  scientific  facts. 
Take  an  actual  problem  and  try  to  solve  it,  remem- 
bering as  you  work  the  rules  for  reasoning  which  are 
the  natural  product  of  human  experience.  Some 
minds  run  in  one  direction  and  some  in  another. 
For  amusement  and  instruction  try  to  reason  about 
problems  that  interest  you.  That  is  the  way  to  get 
at  the  heart  of  a  subject.  The  merry,  eager,  inquir- 
ing mind  goes  all  the  way.  The  dull,  bored  mind 
soon  gets  tired.  There  is  a  wonderful  pleasure  in 
mental  achievement  for  its  own  sake  and  not  for 
pecuniary  profit.  When  you  acquire  information 
which  gives  you  keen  satisfaction,  you  can  say  with 
Shakespeare: 
[174] 


THE  LAWS  OF  THOUGHT 

My  crown  is  in  my  heart,  not  on  my  head, 
Not  deck'd  with  diamonds  and  Indian  stones, 
Nor  to  be  seen:  my  crown  is  called  content, 
A  crown  it  is  that  seldom  kings  enjoy. 


[175] 


XV:    LEGAL  MAXIMS 


XV 

LEGAL  MAXIMS 

Maxims  are  the  condensed  good  sense  of  nations. 

— Mackintosh. 

This  chapter  is  devoted  to  the  legal  maxims  which 
apply  specially  to  the  rules  of  evidence.  Legal  like 
other  maxims  are  framed  with  the  object  of  stating 
general  principles  in  epigrammatic  form.  But  it  is 
one  thing  to  lay  down  general  principles  and  an- 
other to  apply  them  to  particular  cases.  Conse- 
quently the  application  of  legal  maxims  is  by  no 
means  easy.  The  problems  usually  arise,  "Does 
the  maxim  apply?"  and  "If  it  does,  is  the  case  under 
review  an  exception?"  The  difficulty  is  increased 
by  the  complexity  of  modern  life  and  the  accumula- 
tion of  a  vast  mass  of  statutes  and  legal  decisions. 
A  knowledge  of  fundamental  principles  is,  however, 
*  essential.  They  are  the  lawyer's  compass.  The  ex- 
igencies of  the  particular  case  may  require  him  to 
take  this  or  that  course,  but  unless  he  understands 
first  principles,  he  will  be  certain  to  make  mistakes. 
Many  of  the  maxims  date  from  the  time  of  the 
Romans.  Being  manifestly  founded  on  reason, 
public  convenience  and  necessity,  they  form  part  of 
the  law  of  every  civilised  nation. 

[179] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

Volenti  non  fit  injuria. 

That  to  which  a  man  consents  cannot  be  considered  an  injury. 

Note. — This  is  an  important  and  far-reaching 
maxim,  but  it  has  its  limitations.  In  some  cases  a 
party  has  no  power  to  consent — in  other  words  con- 
sent makes  no  difference.  Yet  generally  speaking 
acquiescence  and  consent  form  a  good  defence.  For 
example:  If  a  man  voluntarily  releases  his  rights 
he  cannot  afterwards  enforce  them,  but  he  must  not 
be  deceived  into  making  the  release,  and  in  most 
cases  some  consideration  or  a  deed  is  necessary  for 
the  effectual  giving  up  of  a  right.  There  is  another 
class  of  case,  however,  in  which  consent  and  acquies- 
cence are  important  factors.  A  man  who  contri- 
butes to  an  injury  which  he  sustains  is  precluded 
from  recovering  damages  from  the  other  party  to 
the  injury.  This  is  what  is  called  "contributory 
negligence." 

Qui  fncit  per  alium  facit  per  se. 

He  who  does  anything  by  another  does  it  by  himself. 

Note. — When  four  hundred  years  ago  the  Pope's 
cat  allowed  the  Pope's  monkey  to  use  her  paw  to 
pull  chestnuts  out  of  the  fire,  she  little  thought  that 
her  action  would  be  immortalised  in  two  valuable 
similes.  "Pulling  chestnuts  out  of  the  fire"  for  some 
one  else  and  "acting  as  a  cat's-paw"  are  phrases  we 
all  use  and  understand.  But  the  law  does  not  allow 
the  schemer  to  escape.  If  you  employ  an  agent  you 
[180] 


LEGAL    MAXIMS 

are  liable  for  what  he  does  within  the  scope  of  his 
authority,  and  to  indemnify  him  for  the  conse- 
quence, unless  indeed  the  parties  are  engaged  in  an 
unlawful  act.  For  example,  if  when  driving  for 
you,  your  motor  driver  negligently  knocks  some 
one  down  you  are  liable  to  the  injured  person.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  agent  must  display  the  utmost 
good  faith  in  his  dealings  with  his  principal.  He 
must  not  make  secret  profits  or  use  his  position  to 
secure  advantages  for  himself  except  with  the  con- 
sent of  his  principal. 

Qui  facet  consentire  videtur. 

He  who  is  silent  appears  to  consent. 

Note. — In  popular  phraseology  "Silence  gives 
consent" — but  this  maxim  must  be  applied  with 
great  caution.  For  example:  if  you  propose  to  a 
lady,  and  she  says  nothing,  you  must  not  assume 
that  she  consents.  On  the  contrary,  the  implication 
is  that  she  does  not,  unless  the  silence  is  accompanied 
by  acts  capable  of  only  one  construction. 

Res  inter  alios  acta  alteri  nocere  non  debet. 

One  person  ought  not  to  be  injured  by  the  acts  of  others  to 
which  he  is  a  stranger. 

Note. — This  is  one  of  the  leading  maxims  con- 
cerning the  law  of  evidence.  A  man's  acts  and  dec- 
larations are  binding  upon  him  as  evidence  against 
himself,  but  it  would  be  manifestly  unjust  that  he 

[181] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

should  be  bound  by  those  of  strangers  who  were  not 
his  agents. 

Res  judicata  pro  veritate  accipitur. 

A  thing  adjudicated  is  received  as  true. 

Note. — When  a  matter  has  been  adjudicated 
upon  by  the  Court  in  proceedings  between  the  same 
parties  it  is  regarded  as  settled. 

Expressio  unius  per  sonic  vcl  rci,  est  exclusio  al- 
terius. 

The  express  mention  of  one  person  or  thing  is  the  exclusion  of 
another. 

Note. — This  rule  states  one  of  the  first  principles 
applicable  to  the  construction  of  statutes  and  other 
documents.  Special  words  override  and  control 
general  words.  To  give  a  crude  example,  if  a  docu- 
ment says  that  Smith  was  killed  with  a  sharp  instru- 
ment and  then  goes  on  to  say  that  he  was  killed  with 
a  hatchet,  the  mention  of  the  hatchet  excludes  any 
other  species  of  sharp  instrument  from  considera- 
tion. But  caution  is  necessary  when  dealing  with 
this  maxim,  as  its  application  depends  upon  the  in- 
tention of  the  parties  as  discoverable  upon  the  face 
of  the  document. 

De  minimis  non  curat  lex. 

Of  trifles  the  law  does  not  concern  itself. 

Note. — This  rule  applies  to  all  legal  matters.    It 
is  not  restricted  to  evidence.    Trifles  are  often  im- 
[182] 


LEGAL    MAXIMS 

portant,  but  the  law  preserves  a  sense  of  propor- 
tion. 

Nimia  subtilitas  in  jure  reprobatur. 

Nice  and  subtle  distinctions  are  not  sanctioned  by  law. 
Note. — See  the  previous  maxim. 

Cuilibet  in  sua  arte  perito  est  credendum. 

Whosoever  is  skilled  in  his  profession  is  to  be  believed. 

Note. — This  maxim  applies  to  doctors,  lawyers, 
surveyors,  architects  and  others  who  are  called  upon 
to  give  technical  advice  or  evidence.  But  note  the 
word  "skilled."  Much  discretion  is  required  when 
selecting  the  expert  upon  whom  to  rely.  You  want 
to  be  sure  that  he  is  "skilled."  Expert  witnesses 
are  allowed  to  give  opinions,  whereas  ordinary  wit- 
nesses as  a  rule  must  speak  to  the  facts  only. 

In  jure  non  remota  causa,  sed  proxima  spectatur. 

In  law  the  proximate,  and  not  the   remote,  cause  is  to  be 
regarded. 

Note. — This  is  a  salutary  maxim.  Life  is  made 
up  of  "one  damn  thing  after  another,"  and  each 
thing  hinges  on  some  other  thing  like  the  House- 
that-Jack-Built.  Consequently  the  law  confines  it- 
self to  the  immediate  cause.  The  person,  however, 
who  does  an  act  is  responsible  for  the  natural 
and  necessary  consequences.  For  example,  where 
the  defendant  threw  a  lighted  squib  into  a  market- 
house  during  a  fair,  and  the  squib  fell  upon  a  stall, 

[183] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

and  the  stall-keeper  to  protect  himself  threw  the 
squib  upon  another  stall  from  which  it  was  again 
thrown,  thus  blinding  the  plaintiff,  it  was  decided 
that  the  person  who  originally  threw  the  squib  was 
liable  for  the  damages  sustained  by  the  blinded  man. 

Injuria  non  prccsumitar. 

Injury  is  not  to  be  presumed. 

Note. — It  must  be  proved. 

Interpretatio  talis  in  ambiguis  semper  fienda,  est, 
ut  evitetur  inconveniens  et  absurdum. 

In  ambiguous  things  such  an  interpretation  is  to  be  made,  that 
what  is  inconvenient  and  absurd  is  to  be  avoided. 

Note. — This  requires  no  comment. 

Nullus  commodum  capere  potest  de  injuria  sua  pro- 
pria. 

No  one  can  take  advantage  of  his  own  wrong. 

Note. — This  maxim  expresses  one  of  the  primary- 
rules  of  justice.  Supposing,  for  example,  that 
Smith  contracts  with  Jones  to  do  certain  work 
within  a  certain  time,  Jones  finding  the  materials, 
and  the  materials  are  not  forthcoming,  Jones  can- 
not, if  the  work  is  not  completed  in  the  stipulated 
time,  sue  Smith  for  breach  of  contract. 

Omnia  pr&sumuntur  contra  spoliatorem. 

All  things  are  presumed  against  a  wrong-doer. 

Note. — In  an  earlier  chapter  I  mentioned  the 
leading  case  upon  this  subject — Armory  v.  Dela- 
[184] 


LEGAL    MAXIMS 

mirie — which  arose  out  of  the  conduct  of  a  dishonest 
jeweller  who  stole  a  diamond  from  a  sweep's  boy 
who  had  found  it.  The  jeweller  failing  to  produce 
the  stone,  the  Court  held  that  the  boy  was  entitled 
to  restitution  on  the  assumption  that  the  stone  was 
of  the  finest  class.  In  another  case  a  portion  of  a 
diamond  necklace  which  had  been  stolen  was  found 
in  the  defendant's  possession  shortly  after  the  rob- 
bery. The  owner  was  held  entitled  to  recover  the 
value  of  the  whole  necklace. 

Verba  intentioni,  non  e  contra,  debent  inservire. 

Words  ought  to  be  made  subservient  to  the  intent,  not  con- 
trary to  it. 

Note. — In  construing  documents  the  object  of 
the  Court  is  to  ascertain  the  intention  of  the  parties 
and  to  give  effect  to  it. 

Certum  est  quod  cerium  reddi  potest. 

That  is  certain  which  is  able  to  be  rendered  certain. 

Note. — This  rather  obvious  truth  applies  in  legal 
affairs  mostly  to  the  construction  of  deeds,  e.g.,  If 
a  deed  provides  that  so  much  money  shall  be  paid 
to  A  for  his  services  as  B  shall  determine,  although 
the  amount  is  uncertain  in  the  deed  it  is  capable  of 
being  made  specific  by  B's  award. 

Id  certum  est  quod  certum  reddi  potest;  sed  id 
magis  certum  est  quod  de  semet  ipso  est  certum. 

That  is  certain  which  can  be  made  certain,  but  that  is  most 
certain  which  is  certain  on  the  face  of  it. 

Note. — This  needs  no  comment. 

[185] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 
ConfessiOj  facto  in  judicio,  omni  probatione  major 

Cst. 

A  confession  made  in  judicial  proceedings  is  of  greater  force 
than  all  proof. 

Note. — This  maxim  must  he  applied  with  a  large 
grain  of  salt.  A  plea  of  guilty  takes  a  lot  of  ex- 
planation, hut  it  is  not  uncommon  for  innocent  per- 
sons to  make  such  a  pica  with  various  ohjects. 

De  ?i07i  apparentibtts,  et  non  existentibus,  eadem  est 

ratio. 

Of  things  which  do  not  appear  and  things  which  do  not  exist, 
the  rule  in  legal  proceedings  is  the  same. 

Note. — As  a  general  rule,  the  law  acts  only  upon 
things  proved  in  evidence.  There  are,  however, 
some  matters  of  which  the  Courts  will  take  judicial 
notice  without  proof.  For  example,  statutes,  Par- 
liamentary proceedings,  privileges  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  etc. 

Ignorantia  facti  excusat;  ignorantia  juris  non  ex- 
cusat. 

Ignorance  of  the  fact  excuses;  ignorance  of  the  law  does  not 
excuse. 

Note. — In  theory  every  one  is  supposed  to  know 
the  law,  except  children  under  a  certain  age  and 
insane  persons.  On  the  other  hand,  ignorance  of  a 
material  fact  may  excuse  a  party  from  the  legal 
consequences  of  his  conduct.  For  example,  in  the 
absence  of  fraud  money  paid  with  full  knowledge 
[186] 


LEGAL    MAXIMS 

of  the  facts  but  through  ignorance  of  the  law  is  not 
recoverable,  whereas  the  contrary  applies  where 
money  is  paid  in  ignorance  of  the  facts.  Thus  where 
credit  was  not  given  in  an  account  for  a  sum  already 
paid  by  the  plaintiff  who,  in  mistake  and  in  the 
hurry  of  business,  paid  the  balance  shown  to  be  due, 
he  was  allowed  to  recover  the  amount  overpaid. 

Those  who  are  interested  in  this  subject  should 
read  Broom's  "Legal  Maxims"  or  Wharton's 
"Legal  Maxims."  The  latter  is  best  suited  for  the 
lay-reader  and  is  a  most  instructive  little  book.  I 
am  indebted  to  Wharton  for  the  translations  of  the 
maxims  quoted. 


[187] 


XVI:  THE  MORAL  DUTY  OF  BELIEF 


XVI 
THE  MORAL  DUTY  OF  BELIEF 

How  prone  to  doubt,  how  cautious  are  the  wise! 

— Alexander  Pope. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  the  ordinary  rules  for 
judging  evidence  are  rarely  applied  to  statements 
concerning  spiritualism  and  kindred  subjects.  To 
test  such  statements  by  means  similar  to  those  which 
we  apply  to  discover  whether  Mr.  A.  is  a  fraudulent 
trustee  or  whether  Mr.  B.  murdered  his  wife  seems 
to  border  upon  the  irreverent.  The  idea  of  entering 
the  presence  of  a  disembodied  spirit  accompanied  by 
an  Old  Bailey  lawyer,  a  detective,  and  a  conjurer  is 
repulsive  and  incongruous.  Indeed,  we  are  told 
that  an  unsympathetic,  suspicious  atmosphere  is  cal- 
culated to  frustrate  the  success  of  such  experiments, 
and  we  can  well  appreciate  the  truth  of  this  conten- 
tion. What,  then,  should  be  our  attitude  when  con- 
sidering psychic  phenomena?  My  object  is  to  en- 
deavour to  answer  this  question. 

It  is  the  duty  of  every  one  to  abstain  from  form- 
ing important  beliefs  without  adequate  evidence  to 
support  them.  In  this  respect  we  have  a  duty  not 
only  to  ourselves  but  to  the  community.    The  be- 

[191] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

liefs  and  mode  of  thinking  of  the  humblest  citizens 
are  part  and  parcel  of  that  wonderful  web  of 
thought  which  forms  the  character  and  tradition  of 
the  race.  Therefore,  notwithstanding  the  objec- 
tions above-mentioned,  it  becomes  necessary  to  con- 
sider how  we  should  test  the  evidence  of  psychic  phe- 
nomena. Here  we  are  at  once  faced  with  the  diffi- 
cult problem  which  has  caused  endless  discussion, 
viz.:  To  what  extent  are  we  entitled  to  rely  upon 
the  authority  of  others  when  forming  beliefs  regard- 
ing subjects  beyond  our  personal  knowledge  and 
experience?  At  almost  every  turn  in  life  we  are 
called  upon  to  rely  upon  the  judgment  or  state- 
ments of  other  people,  and  mankind  has  evolved  two 
useful  tests  for  use  on  such  occasions. 

First. — Is  our  informant  or  adviser  honest? 

Second. — Does  he  know  what  he  is  talking  about? 

Assuming  a  satisfactory  reply  to  the  first  ques- 
tion, obviously  the  answer  to  the  second  must  often 
present  serious  difficulties  where  technical  or  sci- 
entific subjects  are  involved.  If  you  require  an 
architect,  a  medical  specialist,  or  an  electrician,  can 
you  hope  to  make  an  effective  choice  if  you  are  ig- 
norant of  architecture,  medicine,  or  electricity? 
Most  of  us  solve  the  difficulty  by  consulting  a  per- 
son famous  in  his  profession,  sometimes  forgetting 
that  often  professional  men  do  not  become  famous 
until  they  are  old  and  old-fashioned.  Another 
method,  and  a  good  one,  is  to  obtain  recommenda- 
tions from  persons  who  have  had  occasion  for  similar 
[192] 


THE  MORAL  DUTY  OF  BELIEF 

services.  But  one  thing  is  certain.  We  do  not  go 
to  a  professor  or  literary  man  if  we  desire  to  investi- 
gate the  credit  or  character  of  a  person  with  whom 
we  are  about  to  have  business  relations.  We  con- 
sult a  lawyer  or  private  detective.  This  brings  us 
to  spiritualism,  thought-transference,  etc.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  the  glamour  of  great  names  has  led 
people  to  credit  stories  and  to  form  beliefs  which, 
but  for  the  advocacy  and  sanction  of  the  persons 
bearing  such  names,  they  would  have  rejected. 
Does  the  fact  that  a  man  is  a  great  authority  on 
electricity,  physics,  or  literature  constitute  him  an 
authority  on  psychic  phenomena  and  the  credibility 
of  witnesses  and  mediums? 

A  knowledge  of  electricity  and  physics  does  not 
imply  special  qualifications  for  investigating  and 
judging  such  evidence.  Unfortunately,  we  know 
that  the  history  of  alleged  abnormal  occurrences  is 
thickly  strewn  with  cases  of  fraud  and  mad  delusion. 
Consequently  the  credibility  and  sanity  of  the  me- 
dium or  testifier  is  an  important  item  in  a  spiritual- 
istic or  thought  transference  experiment.  A  pro- 
fessor may  be  an  adept  in  dealing  with  volts  and 
electrons,  but  in  dealing  with  unscrupulous  or  neu- 
rotic men  and  women  he  may  be  simple  and  easily 
deceived.  I  should  attach  more  importance  to  the 
judgment  of  a  skilled  conjurer  assisted  by  a  shrewd 
private  detective.  It  may  be  said  that  we  are  not 
expected  to  act  on  authority,  and  that  every  one  is 
entitled  to  examine  the  evidence  for  himself;  but 

[193] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

the  fact  remains  that  many  people  credit  these  sto- 
ries because  distinguished  men  believe  them  to  he 

true.  It  must  he  remembered  id  addition  that 
very  few  seekers  after  truth  have  the  qualifications 
or  facilities  for  making  such  investigations,  which 
involve  all  sorts  of  different  questions,  some  medi- 
cal, some  personal,  and  some  psychological.  To  put 
the  matter  in  a  nutshell,  those  who  hold  these  views 
base  their  heliefs  on  the  fact  that  mediums  make 
communications  from  spirits  containing  information 
previously  unknown  to  the  mediums,  and  which 
must  therefore  have  heen  communicated  to  them  by 
the  spirits.  The  whole  thing  may  he  a  fraud,  or  it 
may  be  capable  of  some  less  dramatic  explanation. 
If  thought-reading  is  a  fact,  it  would  he  more  fea- 
sible that  the  medium,  consciously  if  fraudulent,  or 
unconsciously  if  honest,  should  secure  his  or  her  in- 
formation from  one  of  the  spirit's  friends  who  may 
happen  to  be  present.  This  would  he  remarkable, 
but  far  less  so  than  communications  from  the  spirit 
world. 

Most  mediums  perform  for  money,  and  those  wTho 
do  not  derive  notoriety  and  kudos  from  the  posses- 
sion of  their  alleged  mystic  powers.  These  facts 
make  the  utmost  caution  necessary.  No  experiment 
is  worth  the  name  which  is  not  carried  out  hy  inde- 
pendent investigators  who  enter  upon  the  experi- 
ment without  bias.  Spiritualistic  and  thought- 
transference  enthusiasts  are  usually  receptive. 
They  are  looking  for  evidence  to  support  beliefs 
[194] 


THE  MORAL  DUTY  OF  BELIEF 

already  formed.  Of  course  it  may  be  said  that  all 
scientific  investigation  is  made  upon  these  lines. 
The  inquirer  forms  an  hypothesis,  and  then  endeav- 
ours to  test  it.  But  an  hypothesis  is  a  different 
thing  from  a  belief,  and  we  know  from  experience 
that  the  vital  issues  involved  and  the  ardent  long- 
ing which  many  people  have  to  communicate  with 
the  dead  produce  almost  ecstatic  beliefs  which  are 
inimical  to  level-minded  investigation. 

The  systematic  probing  of  evidence  is  rare  ex- 
cept in  a  law  court  or  scientific  laboratory.  In 
dealing  with  psychic  research  most  of  us  are  inclined 
to  believe  what  we  consider  possible  and  not  what 
has  been  proved.  There  is  a  marked  difference  be- 
tween "it  may  be"  and  "it  is."  In  the  case  of 
thought-transference  we  are  all  acquainted  with  the 
argument,  "There  is  no  doubt  that  in  everyday  life 
some  people  can  read  the  thoughts  of  others.  There- 
fore it  was  quite  possible  that  Mr.  A.  could  tell  Mr. 
B.  the  number  of  a  bank-note  which  Mr.  B.  took  out 
of  his  pocket  and  examined  during  the  experiment 
without  disclosing  the  number  to  any  other  person." 
I  do  not  suggest  that  this  and  other  miraculous 
feats  may  not  be  performed,  but  the  questions  in 
each  case  are: — 

First . — Was  it  performed  ?    And 

Second. — Was  it  performed  by  means  of  thought- 
reading  or  was  it  done  by  means  of  a  trick? 

We  have  not  to  consider  the  possibilities  but  the 
facts  in  each  experiment.    One  performer  may  be 

[195] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

genuine,  while  another  may  l>e  a  fraud,  and  strange 
happenings  may  be  due  to  natural  causes.    If  we 

wish  t<>  colled  data  on  which  to  base  an  induction, 
we  must  sec  that  in  each  instance  we  arrive  at  the 

truth  irrespective  of  possibilities.  This  is  the  A 
B  C  of  scientific  investigation.     As  Huxley  says: 

"The  development  of  exact  natural  knowledge  in 
all  its  vast  range,  from  physics  to  history  and  criti- 
cism, is  the  consequence  of  the  working  out,  in  this 
province,  of  the  resolution  to  'take  nothing  for  truth 
without  clear  knowledge  that  it  is  such';  to  consider 
all  beliefs  open  to  criticism;  to  regard  the  value  of 
authority  as  neither  greater  nor  less  than  as  much 
as  it  can  prove  itself  to  be  worth." 

Not  having  examined  the  evidence,  I  do  not  ven- 
ture to  express  an  opinion  upon  the  merits  of  the 
controversy  concerning  spiritualism  and  thought- 
transference.  My  only  object  is  to  insist  upon  the 
vital  necessity,  in  the  interests  of  the  individual  and 
the  community,  of  abstaining  from  adopting  im- 
portant beliefs  without  strict  investigation  of  the 
facts.  Those  who  are  interested  in  this  aspect  of  the 
discussion  may  read  with  advantage  an  essay  by  the 
late  Professor  W.  K.  Clifford,  called  "The  Ethics 
of  Belief,"  published  in  Lectures  and  Essays. 

Perhaps  I  may  be  permitted  to  say  a  few  words 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  man  in  the  street  con- 
cerning certain  recent  and  striking  arguments  by 
my  friend  Sir  Oliver  Lodge.  For  the  most  part  he 
merely  repeats  what  has  been  said  in  one  form  or 
[196] 


THE  MORAL  DUTY  OF  BELIEF 

another  by  philosophers  of  various  schools  since  the 
time  of  Homer.  In  effect  he  says  we  possess  a  soul 
and  that  mind  and  matter  are  two  different  things. 
In  other  words,  he  rejects  the  mechanistic  or  ma- 
terialistic theory,  and  claims  the  reality  of  psycho- 
physical interaction — to  use  the  jargon  of  the  craft. 
Needless  to  say,  these  views  are  widely  held  by  peo- 
ple of  all  classes,  including  distinguished  men  of 
science.  There  is  nothing  new  about  them,  and,  in- 
volving as  they  do  the  vital  question  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul  or  reason,  no  subject  has  been  more 
violently  debated  or  given  rise  to  more  theories. 
According  to  Mr.  William  McDougal  (see  his  in- 
teresting book  on  "Body  and  Mind") :  "in  spite  of 
heated  controversy  the  question  still  remains  just 
where  Aristotle  left  it,  with  this  difference  only — 
that  we  are  beginning  to  acquire  that  understanding 
of  the  nature  and  extent  of  the  bodily  processes  in- 
volved in  mental  activity,  the  lack  of  which  necessi- 
tated the  suspension  of  judgment  in  the  truly  sci- 
entific mind  of  Aristotle."  He  means  that  there 
is  now  a  mass  of  carefully  collected  evidence  re- 
garding our  mental  functions  which  demands  care- 
ful study  by  any  person  who  wishes  to  form  a 
belief  on  this  important  subject. 

When  all  is  said,  Sir  Oliver  Lodge's  only  contri- 
bution to  the  discussion  is  the  alleged  proof  of  im- 
mortality supplied  through  the  instrumentality  of 
mediums  and  other  testifiers.  Obviously,  the  value 
of  this  contribution  depends  on  the  authenticity  of 

[197] 


SOME  THINGS  THAT  MATTER 

the  evidence  on  which  it  is  based.  It  may  well  be 
possible  t<>  confute  M.  Charles  Richet  by  arguments 
proving  that  mind  is  something  more  than  matter, 
but  that  in  no  way  proves  or  tends  to  prove  the 
spiritualistic  theories  of  Sir  Oliver  Lodge.  He 
fairly  points  out  that  if  the  mechanistic  theory  is 
correct,  then  there  is  an  end  of  spiritualism.  He 
tells  us  that  "if  memory  resides  in  the  brain,  access 
to  lost  memory  and  personality  through  the  agency 
of  survivors  is  hopeless:  for  there  are  no  survivors." 
Therefore,  he  is  bent  on  destroying  the  mechanistic 
doctrine.  The  reader  will  do  well  to  note,  how- 
ever, that  assuming  that  Sir  Oliver  is  right,  and  that 
the  mechanists  are  wrong,  this  does  not  prove  that 
Sir  Oliver  and  his  coadjutors  are  correct  in  their 
further  assumption  that  the  soul  or  reason  can  exist 
apart  from  the  body,  or  that,  if  it  can,  we  can  get 
into  communication  with  it  through  the  channels  on 
which  he  places  reliance.  There  are  three  separate 
and  distinct  points  which  must  not  be  confused: — 

First. — Does  mind  exist  apart  from  matter,  i.e., 
the  molecules  of  the  brain  and  nerve-centres? 

Second. — If  it  does,  can  it  continue  in  any — and, 
if  so,  what — shape  after  death?    And 

Third. — Are  Sir  Oliver  Lodge  and  those  who 
think  with  him  right  when  they  allege  the  possibility 
of  communicating  with  departed  spirits? 

Of  course,  an  affirmative  reply  to  No.  3  settles 
Nos.  1  and  2,  but  the  settlement  in  the  affirmative 
[198] 


THE  MORAL  DUTY  OF  BELIEF 

of  No.  1  or  of  Nos.  1  and  2  does  not  by  any  means 
imply  No.  3. 

Not  being  a  scientific  man,  it  is  not  for  me  to 
make  a  statement  regarding  the  considered  opinion 
of  the  scientific  world  on  Nos.  1  and  2.  No  doubt 
there  are  two  violent  camps,  as  there  always  have 
been.  Whether  we  are  nearer  a  scientific  solution 
of  these  much-debated  questions  I  for  one  cannot 
say;  but  from  what  I  have  read  I  should  imagine 
that  nowadays  the  affirmative  of  No.  1  has  a  pretty 
strong  backing,  supported  by  evidence  which  seems 
reliable,  but  that  No.  2  is  regarded  as  doubtful  and 
disputable.  As  for  No.  3,  I  have  no  comment  to 
make,  except  that,  if  any  one  were  to  bring  such 
evidence  as  satisfies  Sir  Oliver  and  his  friends  to 
me  in  connection  with  a  business  proposition,  I 
should  want  to  look  into  it  very  carefully. 


THE  END. 


[199] 


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